Blind, Deaf, and Dumb
by dr. kitten
Summary: She was blind to his affection, deaf to his pleas, and dumb to think he'd let her get away with it. AU, follows RE0 storyline, but with Billy as Rebecca's prisoner. Multiple endings now available!
1. The Innocent Convict

Blind, Deaf, and Dumb

_A Resident Evil 0 Fanfic_

**Hi, everyone ... thanks for reading my story. Reviews are much appreciated, as they motivate me to continue. I'm really pleased by how many people have responded already. This story follows the Resident Evil Zero storyline, with a few necessary changes, but explores what might have happened if Rebecca had gone through with arresting Billy in the beginning. I'm planning four different endings ... and I would love feedback on what people think is the best one. I'll try to update every day, or as my rather busy schedule allows. **

Chapter One:

The Innocent Convict

As the once-well-dressed zombie's rotting hands closed around her throat, and the smell of death choked her senses, the only thought that Rebecca Chambers could muster was: _it's ridiculous for me to die here, before my mission even really started. _

Weakly, she brought her own hands up to try to fend the monster off, but the strength in its dead limbs was terrifying. It clung to her tighter the more she struggled, and she felt the blackness of unconsciousness overtake her.

_No! Not yet … I can't die yet … there are people I have to save! I need to know what's going on here!_

As if in a dream, she felt the pressure around her throat disappear, and heard a bone-chilling groan, followed by the sound of a knife striking flesh. Then she felt rough hands taking her pulse.

"Hey," a deep, masculine voice said. "Are you all right?"

Rebecca opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times, stunned by the realization that someone had saved her life. _Someone else is in the same position that I am, facing the same dangers. _

She looked up at her rescuer and gasped in surprise. He was a handsome man, in his late twenties or early thirties, with dark, slicked-back hair and tanned skin. He was tall, well-muscled and looked like he could take care of himself. Rebecca's eyes zoomed in on the distinctive tattoo on his right arm, and she felt cold horror strike her heart.

_I've been saved from death by a murderer. How ironic._

"You're ex-Marine Lieutenant Billy Coen!" she said accusingly, sitting up straight.

The man in front of her sighed deeply; it seemed as though he had been expecting her reaction. "Yeah, that's me. And you are?"

_None of your business, _Rebecca wanted to say, but she could not stop herself from blurting out, "Rebecca Chambers, rookie member of the S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Team." She hesitated for a moment, and then brought her handgun up to point squarely at Billy Coen's forehead. "I read your file, Coen. You're under arrest."

Billy gave her a wry glance. "Do you do this to _all _the guys that save your ass?"

"Only the convicts," Rebecca quipped back. Keeping a firm grip on the gun in case he tried any slick maneuvers, she brought a pair of handcuffs out of her backpack. "Drop your knife, turn around and put your hands behind your back."

"You know, it goes against the grain to let the woman be on top," Billy commented as she slapped the metal cuffs over his strong wrists. He was already wearing a pair that had been broken on one side.

Rebecca snorted, not even bothering to acknowledge his ridiculously out-of-place remark. "Come on," she grunted, getting to her feet. "The sooner we get out of here, the sooner I can turn you in."

Billy shrugged. "As you like, Ma'am. I suppose that you have a good plan for how to safely exit a moving train?"

She did not, but she wasn't going to admit that to this arrogant man. "I've got a train key. Let's see where it goes. You walk in front, Mr. Coen."

She had expected him to put up a fight, but he meekly accepted her instructions. Rebecca was puzzled; he seemed awfully relaxed for someone who was guilty of such heinous crimes. From the fact that he had been running around a train full of vicious zombies equipped with only a combat knife, she could tell that he was a force to be reckoned with, but yet he had not resisted her at all when she arrested him.

_He's probably biding his time, waiting for a chance to escape. And in the meantime, he's letting me do all the dirty work. _

She was brought sharply forth from her thoughts by the shuffling sound of more undead monsters. She shot a glance and Billy, and he smiled brazenly back.

"I guess it's up to you, Officer," he said.

Rebecca fired as soon as she saw the putrid heads through the doorway. She didn't stop shooting until the chamber was empty, and her enemies lay unmoving on the floor. She reloaded quickly, taking note that she was running low on rounds. _I really hope there's more ammunition somewhere on this train._

She unlocked the door in front of her and stepped quickly inside, raising her gun to unsure there were no threats. The room was silent, and still. Rebecca grimaced at the bloody stains on the walls, and headed for a small stairway in the corner. Thudding footsteps behind her told her that her prisoner was following.

Rebecca reached the top of the stairs and stopped short. An old man was sitting at a table, staring blankly at the food in front of him. The S.T.A.R.S rookie approached cautiously, unnerved by the fact that the strange man was not moving at all.

"Get back!" Billy said sharply. At the same time, the man's head suddenly detached from his shoulders of its own accord and thumped onto the ground. The body writhed, and a mass of leeches spread out from the apparent corpse, swarming towards Rebecca, who jerked backwards in horror and tripped, falling on her butt. She closed her eyes, forgetting all about her handgun as the ugly creatures flew straight for her.

There was a loud squelching sound, followed by another. She opened her eyes, amazed. Billy was standing in front of her, his boot planted firmly on the ground. A dark blot of gore indicated the leech that he'd smashed. The others, wary now, wriggled backwards and disappeared into the darkness.

"You saved me!" Rebecca gasped, getting to her feet. _For the second time this day, _she thought, but didn't say it.

Billy gazed steadily back at her with dark eyes. "I can't watch a woman in danger without taking action," he said.

Rebecca nodded curtly. This man might seem likable, but he was a convicted murderer, and it was her duty to bring him to justice. "Thanks," she said, "but no matter how grateful I am, I can't let you go. Wait here. I'm going to climb that ladder and see where it leads."

"What makes you think I won't run off?" Billy challenged.

"You need me," Rebecca said boldly. "How far do you think you'll make it, in handcuffs, with no ammo, and no way to heal yourself if you get hurt?"

"You've got a point, sweetheart," Billy said, sitting down on a nearby bench. "I'll be waiting right here for you."

Rebecca shook her head, wishing that he'd show more respect. After all, she was the officer that had captured him. She climbed the ladder and found herself on top of the train. The howling wind pushed her short hair away from her face as she crawled along the metal, trying to keep her grip on the slick surface.

It was fairly obvious what the trouble was. Some of the wires that supplied power to the train had been severed and were flapping loosely in the wind. Rebecca reconnected them, being careful to avoid touching the metal part. The last thing she needed right now was to get electrocuted.

She was just standing up to head back along the train when the weakened metal roof collapsed under her feet, sending her plummeting down into the room below. She landed hard and lay still for a moment, mentally checking to see if she had been injured. She was all right - a bit scraped up, but nothing serious.

Standing up, she walked over to the door and reached the handle. It was sticky, and she wiggled it a bit. Then a deep frown spread over her face as she realized that it wasn't sticky - it was locked. There was no keyhole on her side.

_What asshole designed this train? _she wondered in disgust. _Now I'm stuck in here, with no way to get out. The door is too solid for me to kick down. _

A sudden thought hit her: Billy. He had come to her rescue before; perhaps he would again. She slapped her hands against the door as loudly as she could, yelling his name.

It was a few minutes before she received an answering knock, and the convict's rough voice said, "What trouble have you gotten yourself into now?"

"I fell through the roof of the train, and now I'm locked in," she admitted, her cheeks crimson with shame. _What kind of police officer am I? _

"What do you expect me to do about it?" Billy asked, his voice unexpectedly gentle. "I don't have a key."

She looked desperately around, and spotted a little silver object on a table. "There's a key in here," she said. "I can send it through the dumbwaiter. You'll just need to go down and get it, and then come back up here and let me out."

"Okay," Billy said. "I'm on my way." She heard footsteps retreating. Snatching up the key, she ran over to the dumbwaiter and placed the precious object inside, manipulating the buttons to send it down. Then she sat down and wrapped her arms around her knees, waiting.

_At least I'm moderately safe here, _she thought. A brief moment of concern for Billy - possibly having to face zombies with no way to defend himself - flashed through her mind, but it was gone before she even recognized it. She hummed to herself, watching a clock on the wall as it ticked away the minutes.

When ten of them had passed with no sign of the convict, cold realization froze Rebecca's heart.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "He's not coming back. He's left me all alone to die in here."


	2. The Scorpion King

Chapter Two:

The Scorpion King

The sound of the door being unlocked jarred Rebecca from her misery. She glanced up in shock as Billy appeared in the now-open doorway, smiling his cocky grin.

"Miss me, sweetheart?" he asked.

Rebecca jumped to her feet. "You … I thought you weren't coming back for me."

"Yeah, sorry I took so long," Billy replied. "It's not easy to dodge zombies in handcuffs." He spoke without any trace of bitterness in his voice, but Rebecca cringed anyway at the reminder that his dangerous position was due to her stubbornness in arresting him.

_I can't back out now, _she thought ruefully. _And I can't forget that he's an escaped convict. His file said that he killed 23 people. I bet he's just waiting for a chance to kill me too._

The "murderer" grinned charmingly at her. "I found some interesting things along the way, though. It seems like one of the passengers was a game hunter, 'cause he has a double-barrel shotgun and some ammo in his compartment. Also, there's a briefcase in a closet on the south car. I thought it might come in handy."

"I'll get it on the way back down," Rebecca said, "along with that gun. I could use something more powerful than my handgun." She stood up and was about to brush past Billy and out through the door when a sudden idea occurred. She turned back and rummaged through the cabinets until she found a few plastic containers of dried noodles and some bottles of water.

"I bet we'll get hungry later on," she explained to Billy, who was watching her curiously. Tucking the food into her backpack, she nodded briskly. "Okay, let's go. First, take me to where you found the shotgun."

"It's back upstairs," Billy said as he led the way. "See … right here."

Rebecca hefted the gun, adjusting to the weight and length of it. She opened the chamber and loaded in two shells, then closed it again with a snap. Billy chuckled approvingly.

"You know how to handle firearms, I guess," he said. "I'm impressed. That gun's pretty big for a little girl like you."

Rebecca glowered at him. "I'm eighteen, all right? Besides, I don't think the man in handcuffs has any right to talk down to me."

Billy's annoying grin grew larger. "I'm _complimenting _you, sweetheart."

Rebecca sighed. By now, she had given up on trying to make sense of her prisoner. She had expected a man who had murdered 23 innocent people in cold blood to be a little more … terrifying. Or at least grim. Not charming and flirtatious.

_It's all an act, _she reminded herself. _Just a sham to get you to trust him. The moment you took those handcuffs off, his hands would be on your throat. _

"I wonder if it's okay to take this," she murmured, looking down at the rifle in her hands. "After all, it does belong to someone else."

"I don't think he'll be needing it any more," Billy said darkly, his eyes tracing a long bloodstain on the wall. Rebecca grimaced and reached for the handle of the compartment, only to be thrown to the side when the train suddenly lurched, metal grinding on metal with a painful screech. She landed on top of Billy, awkwardly grabbing his shoulders to stop her face from colliding with the floor. Getting to her feet, she left the convict to struggle by himself as she ran out into the lounge.

The sight there horrified her, possibly even more than the swarm of leeches that had nearly taken her life earlier. She remembered her mother's voice, speaking sharply: _There's a scorpion in the woodshed. Get away from it, Rebecca!_

"Holy shit!" Billy exclaimed behind her. For once, the cocky tone was missing from his voice; he actually sounded slightly alarmed. The giant scorpion let out an evil hiss and clicked it pincers together. Rebecca couldn't help noting that a single blow from one of them would probably cut her clean in half.

"Stay back," she ordered the man behind her. Raising the shotgun, she fired, wincing as the heavy recoil slammed into her shoulder. With dismay, she realized that the pellets were bouncing off of the hard armor without doing any harm.

With frightening speed that belied its monstrous size, the scorpion rushed her, its pincers held open, ready to snap down and end her life. Dimly, she was aware of Billy's voice shouting, "Rebecca! Look out!"

The next instant, something hard crashed into her, knocking her to the side. She struck the wall, sending a jolt of pain through her arm. Turning quickly, she stared in disbelief as Billy smashed his boot against the creature's face, shouting, "Fuck off, you overgrown bug!" The thing screamed at him, flailing its barbed tail in an attempt to stab him, but he dodged its blows.

"Get down!" Rebecca yelled at him, fumbling as she shoved another two shells into the chamber. As soon as Billy leaped to the side, she emptied her gun into the monster scorpion, this time being careful to aim for its face. The beast flopped to the ground and writhed its legs, screeching in pain and fury. Tossing aside the now-useless shotgun, Rebecca drew out her handgun and shot it until it stopped moving. Then, panting, she looked over at Billy. His shoulder was bleeding lightly from where the thing's pincers had nipped him when he pushed her aside.

Stepping gingerly around the scorpion's body, she examined his wound, relief washing over her when she saw that it wasn't even poisoned. Taking bandages from her med kit, she wrapped it, tying a tight knot. Billy watched her work, his eyes reflecting an emotion that Rebecca could not decipher.

"You were really brave back there," she admitted at last, staring at the floor. "You saved me again."

"I'll put it on your tab, sweetheart," Billy replied, a hint of laughter in his voice. Rebecca scowled at the implication that she couldn't defend herself, but looked up again in surprise when he said, softly, "Thanks for patching me up. You're a good medic."

"It's my job," she answered, not saying what she was really thinking: _even if you are a murderer, I don't want to watch you bleed after you protected me like that. _She shook her head violently, rejecting any kind thoughts she might have had about him. _I'm an officer of the law. It's not my job to feel sorry for the people I arrest. _

"Hey, look at this!" Billy called. He was investigating something behind the bar that the scorpion had smashed upon its entry. With his foot, the convict shoved something out from behind the twisted wood: a strange, hooked device.

Rebecca slung the empty shotgun over her back and picked up the device. "It could come in handy," she said. "All right. Let's go back downstairs and check out that briefcase you mentioned."

The briefcase was locked, but there was no spot for a normal key. Instead, two small holes adorned one side. Rebecca sighed in annoyance. "Can't anything ever be simple?"

"We could stomp on it until it breaks," Billy suggested.

"If we did that, we'd probably break whatever is inside as well," she retorted. "Here. I'll carry this. You can take the hooked stick."

He turned around obediently so she could place it in his hand. "Are you sure you can trust me with this?" he teased. "I might knock you out and try to escape."

"Well, I know what I _can't _trust you to do: keep your mouth shut," Rebecca growled.

"Ouch," said Billy. "I've been shot."

Rebecca ignored him; she figured that was better for her sanity. "Let's head back to the kitchen," she suggested. "I think I saw a panel there that we could raise up."

Billy followed after her, whistling lightly.

The panel proved impossible to lift. Rebecca tried all angles, digging her fingers under the edge and prying until her skin turned white. It was no good, and she finally sat back, exhausted.

"I don't get it. We've been everywhere else in the train, and this is the only place that might do us any good! But I can't seem to get through it."

Something clunked onto the floor beside her. Looked over, she saw that Billy had dropped the hooked device.

"That's why we use … the panel opener," he proclaimed. Rebecca snorted, but she tried it anyway. After all, there were no other good options. To her surprise, the stubborn panel actually budged. She levered it again, and it popped off, revealing a ladder.

"Wait here," she said. "I'll go down." When Billy opened his mouth to object, she shook her head. "You'd just be a liability right now. You wouldn't even be able to climb a ladder with your hands cuffed."

Without waiting for him to reply, she dropped down into the little space. The room was cramped; Billy would have had to bend over slightly to fit in it, Rebecca observed, although she was able to move around unhindered.

An ominous growl from the semi-darkness in front of her made her cautious. She readied her handgun, blinking to make her eyes adjust. It sounded like a dog, but something about it was not right.

The attack came without warning. One moment, everything was still; the next, a pair of gaping jaws were lunging for her face. She stumbled backwards, firing twice into the horrendous maw. With a whimper, the dog crumpled to the floor. Rebecca nearly gagged when she saw it. Blood oozed from holes in its fur that were no made by a weapon. Its rotting flesh sagged on its ribs, revealing part of the bone.

"Hey!" Billy called down into the hole. "Are you all right? What happened?"

"I was attacked by a zombie dog," Rebecca replied. "I'm fine, though. I shot it before it could bite me."

"You better get back up here in case there are any more," the man advised.

"In a minute," said Rebecca. "I think I see something." Moving forward cautiously, she examined the cage that the dog had burst out of. Inside was a small gold ring with an odd peg on one side. It didn't look like it was meant to be worn on someone's finger. Rebecca tucked it in her pocket. It was then that she noticed that there was actually a door at the end of the room. She was curious about it, but she wanted to make sure that Billy didn't think she was deserting him first.

Coming back up the ladder, she was surprised by a hint of concern in Billy's eyes. He looked away when he saw her, and muttered something that sounded like, "Careless," under his breath.

_Does he actually care about what happens to me? _Rebecca wondered. _Or is he just putting on an act to gain my trust. _

"Don't think it's over yet," she said. "I'm going back down. There's a door I want to investigate. I'll be back in a few minutes." She slipped down through the hole again, moving through the dark room with more confidence now that she knew there were no surprises. Throwing open the door, she pointed her handgun straight ahead of her, only to find that she was menacing empty air. She was standing on a platform at the end of the train. The dark forest rushed by around her, the trees blurring together because of their velocity.

A control panel on the railing caught Rebecca's notice. She flipped up the clear plastic cover and pressed the button underneath. Hearing a small click behind her, she turned. A device fixed to the wall, which looked like a gun meant for shooting grappling hooks, had been released. She took it and went back inside, after checking to make sure that there was nothing else of importance on the back of the train.

"You've been outside," Billy observed when she returned, pushing the grappling gun through the hole before her. "You're all wet."

"That's because it's raining," she said. 'The train's still moving fast, but I think I can use this to get up on top of it." She waved the grappling gun at him. "That huge scorpion that broke through the roof might have made some more holes that I can enter."

Billy was unexpectedly helpful. "There's a broken window in the first car that you might be able to use."

"I'll try it," she said.

There was no sign of zombies as they made their way back through the empty cars. Rebecca was confused, and a little nervous; surely there were more people on the train than the few they had encountered. A brief, wild hope that there may be some survivors crossed her mind, and slipped away again. She and Billy had been all over the train, and had seen no one - alive, anyway.

"Take these handcuffs off," Billy said suddenly. She gave him a sharp look.

"Why?"

"So I can boost you through the window, of course," he replied. "It'll be dangerous for you to balance on that ledge by yourself while you shoot that grappling gun. You might fall off the train."

"Oh, no," she said. "That's all very well and good, but what about afterward. You can't expect me to believe that you'll just let me capture you again."

"I let you the first time, didn't I?" he said. "If I'd wanted to, I could have fought back."

Rebecca shook her head. "Sorry, Coen. I'd like to trust you, but I just can't. Besides, why do you want to help me so much?"

"We make a good team," he said simply.

_That's ridiculous, _she thought. _Cops and bad guys don't team up. They fight each other. He's supposed to resent me for catching him, not be trying to protect me. _

"I'll be back soon," she said curtly. "Stay right here."

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied, his voice dry. Ignoring him, Rebecca climbed up onto the window sill and slipped outside, standing up with caution. She gripped the roof with slippery fingers, holding on with one hand while she readied the grappling gun with the other.

The train jerked suddenly, and she shrieked in surprise as her hold nearly broke. She could actually hear Billy's intake of breath from inside as he watched her struggle without being able to give any aid. Gritting her teeth, Rebecca leveled the grappling gun and fired at the lip of the roof. To her relief, the hook caught, and she felt the gun pulling her slowly upwards. She caught onto the roof and pulled herself up, rolling over the edge. Looking back down, she could see Billy's anxious face peering out the window. She gave him a thumbs up and crawled along the top of the roof for the second time that day, looking for any large holes that she might be able to drop down into.

She found one quickly; it appeared to have been put there by the scorpion's claws. Carefully avoiding the jagged edges that would tear through her flesh in an instant, she put her legs over the lip of the hole and hopped down.

The place that she'd entered was definitely not one she'd been in before. Within seconds, however, she realized - to her horror - that she was not alone in the room.


	3. The End of the Line

Chapter Three:

The End of the Tracks

**Sorry, everyone, for the mix-up there. Here is the REAL 3rd chapter ... I'm not quite sure how that happened. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it. I'll post a bonus chapter today to make up for the embarrassment ... again, thanks for reading! (By the way, everyone, if you want to hear a good piece of music, search for RE0 ost - Adrenaline Rush ... it's the "Billy, get your ass over there and save Rebecca" song)  
**

The zombie - for that's what it was - had once been a man in his late thirties, with a face that Rebecca imagined to be kind and friendly. Now, with his skin peeling away and a gruesome bloodstain across his chin and neck, he looked sickening. Rebecca raised her handgun and shot him in the head, putting him out of his misery as quickly as she could.

_I hope I never become like that, _she thought to herself, _a mindless, rotting monster feeding on the living. _Then she thought of Billy, left alone to fend for himself in the empty train car. What if she returned to find that he had also been corrupted, his tanned skin turned pasty white by the cold embrace of death? She had been able to kill all the zombies that she'd encountered so far because they were not familiar to her; could she really shoot a man that she knew, even if he was a murderer? She shouldn't have left him behind.

_Don't be ridiculous, _she told herself. _Billy is a strong guy. He can take care of himself. You need to worry more about what's going to happen to you if you sit here in a daze for much longer. _

She looked around the room that she'd landed in. It was small; a private compartment, she guessed. Luckily, the door was not locked.

"That's a first," she muttered under her breath as she stepped past the corpse she had just shot. As her foot passed its arm, her toe suddenly met with a small object, sending it skittering across the floor. She bent and picked it up, looking at it closely. It was a jewelry box, and inside was another ring, identical to the first one that she'd found, except that it was silver, and the peg was on the other side. She put it in her pocket along with the first.

Her heart rose into her throat when she opened the door that led her back to the room where she'd left Billy. He was sitting in a chair, staring out the window with a moody look on his face. When he heard her footsteps, he jerked upright.

"Much trouble?" he asked.

Rebecca shook her head. "No, just a single zombie. I'm running low on handgun ammo, though. I have five rounds left … so I hope that we don't run into any more baddies."

Billy grunted noncommittally.

"I did find something, though," she said, laying the two rings out on the table for him to see. "What do you think?"

He shifted a little to get a better look at them, and Rebecca could see that, behind his back, his fingers were twitching a little as if he wanted to reach forward and feel them. At last, he said, "Where'd you leave that suitcase?"

"In the kitchen," she said. "Why?"

"I'll bet the two pegs on these rings would fit right into the holes in that thing," he replied.

Rebecca nodded slowly. "You're sharp, Coen. Okay, let's go."

Luckily, she was getting used to navigating on the train, Rebecca realized as she made her way back towards the kitchen with Billy following. She was still unsure of where the control room was, or how they were going to get there, but she had an idea that whatever the briefcase contained would be helpful.

She pushed open the door to the kitchen, caution momentarily forgotten in her excitement. She was about halfway across the room when the refrigerator burst open and a zombie lurched forth, fastening its hands onto her arm. Rebecca screamed, trying to tear herself from its grasp. The unimportant observation that it was wearing a bloody apron flashed through her mind, and she thought, _it must be the chef. _Then, _why am I thinking such stupid thoughts? I'm about to get eaten!_

"Shit!" she heard Billy exclaim behind her. Spinning on one heel, he kicked out as hard as he could, knocking the zombie away before it could bite her. Without his arms to help him balance, he staggered in the opposite direction and fell rather ungracefully onto his side with a muffled grunt. Rebecca wasted no time in blowing a hole in the zombie's head before it could get back up again.

Panting heavily from the fright she has just suffered, she turned back to Billy, who was laboriously getting to his feet. He grinned at her, and Rebecca couldn't help but smile back. She looked away quickly before she could show any more weakness and busied herself by picking up the suitcase. Removing the two rings from her pocket, she fitted their pegs into the appropriate slots in the suitcase's lid. Nothing happened.

"Twist," Billy suggested. Feeling stupid for not noticing the obvious, she did so. The suitcase fell open, and something fluttered to the floor. Rebecca picked it up and looked at it. It was a blue key card.

"Now, where does this go?" she murmured, looking at it.

Billy looked as if he was about to speak, but his words were cut short by a burst of speed from the train and kept him and Rebecca stumbling for their balance. Sparks flew from the tracks as the locomotive careened onward beyond all normal and sane speeds.

"We're not alone on this train," Billy growled. "Someone else is here, too, and whoever they are, they're determined to make us crash."

"We've got to stop them!" Rebecca exclaimed. She wasn't sure where the train's next stop would be, but if it was anywhere near a town, civilians might be injured by a crash. To her surprise, Billy's eyes reflected the same concern that she had as he started heading back the way they'd come.

Rebecca's hopes plummeted as they came to a solid metal door that blocked the pack. She wrestled with the handle for a moment before throwing up her hands. "It's locked!"

"The key card!" Billy exclaimed, jerking his head towards a square device on the wall. She ran the card through it, praying that it would work. _Please let it be the right one, please-_

She heard a slam and looked up. Billy had thrust his strong shoulder against the door, forcing it open. Rebecca followed him through, noticing as she did that the car they were in now was open to the weather. The heavy rain beat against her face as she hurried along, her boots making regular sounds on the metal. _Thump … thump … thump … squelch. _

Rebecca stopped dead, staring down disgust and horror at the bodies at her feet. From the tattered, slimy uniforms that covered their remains, she thought they had been soldiers of some kind. Whatever had killed them had done a thorough job of it; there was little flesh left on their bones. Even the blood that had gushed from their bodies had been consumed; the remainder had been washed clean by the rain. Rebecca stared at the pitiful corpses, unable to tear her eyes away, until she heard Billy's voice.

"Come on! You can feel bad for them later. Right now, we have to stop this train."

"Y-you're right," Rebecca stammered. Forcing herself to look away, she walked forward as quickly as possible. She could have sworn she caught a flash of sympathy in Billy's eyes as he watched her.

"That's right," he said, soothingly. "Good girl." He waited until she had edged past him before he entered the door, turning around so that he could pull it shut with the little maneuverability that the handcuffs afforded him.

Once the horrible sight was no longer directly in front of her, Rebecca's senses started to return, and she felt a burst of anger. How could she possibly think of herself as an officer of the law when she showed such obvious weakness in front of a criminal? It was no wonder that he didn't show her any respect, the way she behaved. It was bad enough that he kept saving her life, but to have him comfort her in her moment of terror was more than she could handle.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"I'm fine," she snapped, and she could tell that the bitter fury in her eyes took him by surprise. For half a second, she felt a little guilty for yelling at him, but she made herself turn around and continue instead of apologizing. It was that ridiculous, annoying, aggravating, _infuriating _man's fault for behaving in such a contradictory manner.

She heard Billy's footsteps behind her as she headed deeper into the new room, accompanied by a resigned sigh. She ignored him and focused her attention on the control panel in front of her. She didn't know anything about operating a train, but there was one thing she recognized: the emergency manual brake, in the form of a large lever sticking out of the floor. She gripped it and tugged, but it wouldn't budge.

"Hurry up," Billy said tersely. When she looked up at him in annoyance, he motioned towards the front windshield with his chin. To her horror, Rebecca saw that the forest was coming to an end, and a black tunnel yawned in front of them. She knew at once that at the speed they were going, if there were any curves within the tunnel, they would be thrown from the tracks and smashed head-on into the solid rock wall.

"I can't pull the manual brake," she admitted, a note of panic creeping into her voice unintended. "I'm not strong enough."

Billy never hesitated. Walking over to her, he stood facing her with his back to the brake handle and gripped it as tightly as he could. "Hang on," he said.

Taking a deep breath, Rebecca pressed as close to him as she could get, fumbling with her hands until she found the brake. She held on just above where his hands were, trying to ignore how warm his well-muscled chest felt against her cheek, and the way it moved with his every breath.

"Okay," said Billy, and she could hear his voice rumbling through his skin. "I'm pulling in three … two … one!"

He jerked forward with all his strength, the muscles in his arms bulging under the strain. Rebecca's hands were torn from the brake handle as it released suddenly, and she toppled backwards with Billy on top of her. He took the weight of his fall on one knee and rolled to avoid squishing her. She was just sitting up when she felt the train's response to the emergency brake. The entire thing quivered for a moment, shaking terribly as the wheels locked onto the metal track. Then it tipped suddenly to the side. Rebecca felt her body leave the floor, smashing through one of the windows. She landed on the hard ground and lay still, her vision blurry. She saw fire, and the dark, shadowy form of a man walking through that fire. Then her vision faded, leaving her in blackness.

When she awoke about twenty minutes later, the first thing she noticed was that her body was painfully stiff and sore. Every muscle ached, and numerous small cuts on her face and arms stung to the touch.

The second thing she noticed was that Billy was gone.


	4. Fire and Water

Chapter Four:

Fire and Water

**Here we go - an extra chapter as promised. Again, sorry about the confusion. And thanks to "Rebecca is NOT Amused" for a good suggestion for a dialog sequence. **

"Oh no!" Rebecca exclaimed, jumping to her feet. She bit back a wince as her bruised legs protested the action.

_I knew it, _she thought as she scanned the tunnel where the train had crashed. _He ran out on me. As soon as he saw I was unconscious, he booked it. I bet I'll never see him again. _An intense feeling of depression that followed immediately after that realization took her by surprise. She told herself that it was just because she had failed to control the first person she had ever arrested.

"Relax, girl," she muttered to herself. "There will be other chances. For now, I need to get out of here."

She looked around, gasping in dismay as she saw that her med kit had been torn open by a shard of broken glass during the crash. Her supplies were scattered everywhere. She salvaged as much as she could, but a good number had fallen into the various flaming piles of debris that were everywhere. Luckily, both her handgun and the empty hunting gun that she'd picked up on the train were lying close at hand. She picked up the former, since it still contained a few bullets, and walked slowly around the room.

As she neared one corner of the room, a still form on the ground made her jump with surprise. She peered closer, half-dreading that it might be Billy, only to see the mangled, disjointed limbs of a zombie. This one was dead, however, its skull crushed in. Idly, she wondered if it had died as a result of being hit by the train, or if Billy had killed it on his way through.

_Either way, _she thought, _that's one less monster for me to deal with._

There was a sudden sound behind her, and she jumped in surprise, whirling around. Billy was standing in front of her. She barely had time to swallow her instinctive sigh of relief before he dropped a few small box at her feet. It contained fifteen handgun rounds. Rebecca loaded five of them into the chamber of her handgun, feeling a lot better about the situation.

"So I see Sleeping Beauty finally woke up," Billy said.

Rebecca scowled at him. "Where did you go?"

He shrugged. "You were unconscious, sweetheart, so I thought I'd take the liberty of checking around a little. You know, to see where we ended up."

"If you ask me," Rebecca said through clenched teeth, "you've been taking a few too many _liberties, _Coen. Don't forget you're under arrest."

"I won't," he said cheerfully.

Rebecca sighed, refusing to admit that she was glad he was still alive. _He's already been sentenced to death for his crimes, _she reminded herself. _It doesn't make any difference whether he's executed or gets eaten by a B.O.W. _

Her stomach growled loudly, and she remembered the packages of noodles that she'd grabbed from the train kitchen. She had only found one of them, but she still had a bottle of water. She poured the precious liquid into the Styrofoam noodle container until it was full, and then covered it and set it as close to the flames as she could without melting it.

The oily smell of the noodles contrasted strangely with the scent of death that surrounded the wrecked train. But it was the first food that Rebecca had seen since her breakfast that morning, so long ago. She picked up the plastic fork that had come with the meal and stirred it, breathing in the rich steam.

Then she realized that she was faced with a new problem: with handcuffs on, how was Billy supposed to eat? She thought about taking them off for a little while, but rejected the idea. He was already too cocky. If he thought she would show him any lenience, he would become intolerable.

She stuck the fork into a clump of noodles, twisting to catch as many strands as she could, and then turned to the convict, who was seated nearby.

"Open wide," she directed.

Billy looked surprised for a moment before answering, "You don't need to give me any, sweetheart. You should have it all to yourself."

"I'm not going to let you starve to death," she replied sharply. "No matter what you might think, I'm not the sort of police officer who feels nothing but hate for criminals. I think that every person has the right to basic comforts, no matter what they've done."

His eyes grew unexpectedly sad. "You're a sweet kid, Rebecca. Too good for this world. If I-"

Before he could finish his sentence, she jammed the forkful of noodles into his mouth, smiling in satisfaction as he choked slightly and let out an incoherent curse.

"Just shut up and eat," she said. "That's an order."

She took a bite herself, happy to see that the charming glint was back in his eye. She was used to Billy the Arrogant Flirt by now, but she wasn't sure what to think of Billy the Serious Philosopher.

As the fork touched her lips, and then her tongue, she blushed suddenly as she realized she was sharing a utensil with him. _It's not like I have a choice, _she thought, angry at her embarrassment. _Besides, all I can taste is noodle. _Still, she tried to take the noodles from the tip of the fork as gingerly as she could.

Within minutes, the substance of the meal was gone, and all that was left was warm, flavored water. Loathe to waste any form of food, Rebecca drank half of the broth in one gulp before setting the rim of the cup to Billy's lips, tilting it slowly so as not to drown him. A hot flush crept up her face as she watched the movement of his throat when he swallowed. A little too eager for the uncomfortable procedure to conclude, Rebecca tipped the remainder of the broth into his mouth in one smooth movement. She had underestimated the amount, however, and a thin trickle slid down the side of his chin. Reflexively, Rebecca reached up and brushed it away. The slight scratch of his stubble against her wrist make her shiver, and she jerked away quickly when she noticed him grinning at her.

Standing up, she tossed the empty noodle cup aside and put the rest of the water and the handgun bullets into her med kit. Behind her, Billy got to his feet as well, with a little more difficulty.

"Thanks for the food," he said, his voice unnaturally polite. Rebecca didn't dare look at him; she didn't want to see the teasing in his eyes.

"You're welcome," she replied stiffly. "Let's get moving. We need to get to safety."

"I'm with you there, sweetheart," Billy said.

Upon inspection, it became apparent that there were only two ways out of their self-created prison. One was a set of double doors that looked like they led to an elevator; these refused to open. The other was a small door, the green paint flaking off the metal. Rebecca opened it and stared down the questionable, watery passage that it revealed. There was a little bit of space along the walls for a person to step, but no handholds, and the stone looked slippery. She decided that it would be more embarrassing to fall into the water than to just walk through it from the beginning.

"Need a piggy-back ride?" Billy's deep voice rumbled from right behind her. He sounded amused.

"Absolutely not!" Rebecca snapped, stepping down into the knee-deep water just to prove that she wasn't afraid. She bit back a hiss of disgust as the cold, clinging fluid seeped through her shoes and started creeping up the legs of her pants. She ran through it as quickly as she could without making too much noise, and seized the ladder at the other end of the passage, climbing quickly.

She was about halfway up when it occurred to her to wonder how Billy was going to climb up. It wasn't like he could turn around and ascend backwards. She looked down and saw him standing at the foot of the ladder, peering up at her. She didn't even need to explain the problem to him, as he clearly understood.

"I have an idea," he said calmly once she had climbed back down. "Why don't you handcuff my arms in front of me instead? These ladder rungs are close enough together for me to be able to get up like that. Once we get back to the top, you can switch them around again."

She frowned at him. "You're being awfully cooperative for a fugitive."

He shrugged. "You've got the gun, sweetheart, and I've never been one for resisting arrest." The humoring look in his eyes said that he had another reason for playing along, but he didn't voice it.

Rebecca didn't see that there was any point in arguing. "Fine. Turn around. But I warn you, if you make any false moves, I won't hesitate to shoot you."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said. Taking out her key, she unlocked the cuffs. He flexed his arms, and she was afraid for a moment that he would try to run for it, or even turn on her and exact his revenge. But instead, he just turned around and held his wrists out in front of him so she could cuff him again.

_Enjoy this while you can, _she told herself. _I'd be surprised if any other criminal you arrest is going to be so good-natured. _

"You go up first," she directed, but he shook his head.

"No. If I fall, I don't want to knock you off the ladder. Just go ahead. I promise I won't run away."

She glared at him, but eventually she had to accept that fact that there wasn't much she could do to persuade him, short of pulling her gun on him, and she didn't want to do that.

Taking hold of the ladder, she climbed quickly, reaching up to push aside the panel at the top. She crawled out and then knelt on the floor and looked back down to see how Billy was faring. Truthfully, watching him climb the ladder was a fairly amusing sight. He gripped each rung with his right hand, moving his left up as far as the handcuffs would allow so that he could grab the next. In that fashion, slow and steady, he made his way to the top. Rebecca moved aside to let him get through. He sat on the edge of the hole, swinging his legs and sighing.

"That's got to be the longest ladder I've ever climbed," he said.

Rebecca wasn't sure how to reply. He seemed to be making a joke, but at the same time, she could understand how he might feel a little resentful of being forced to climb ladders in handcuffs.

_Wait, what am I thinking! He's a criminal! He _deserves _to be in those handcuffs. I have to stop thinking like this. I can never be a real officer of the law if I can't even arrest someone properly. _

"Hold out your hands," she said, sharply. When he did, she removed one side of the cuffs and then twisted his arm roughly behind his back so that she could clip them back into place.

"Whoa," said Billy. "You must really be into bondage, or something."

Rebecca could only gawk at him. She had never heard such a ridiculous statement in her life. "Wh-what?"

"I mean, you slapped those handcuffs on me in a pretty aggressive manner, as if you're pretty used to this sort of thing. Plus this whole 'keeping me at your mercy' thing … it just seems kinda …" he trailed off, his eyebrows raising as he watched her eyes go from shocked to angry.

"It just seems kind of what?" Rebecca asked poisonously.

"Hey, never mind," he said. "It was a joke, all right? It's obvious that you're just trying to do your job here. Sorry for being such a pain in the ass."

Rebecca stared at him. Really, she could just not understand this man. First he makes a comment about her liking bondage, and then he apologizes for it and admits to being annoying? Exactly what was going on in his mind? She narrowed her eyes.

"Apology accepted, Coen. Now, let's get moving. I want to see what sort of place we've ended up in."


	5. Red and White are the Colors of Death

Chapter Five:

Red and White are the Colors of Death

Rebecca looked around in awe, staring at the room that they'd entered. It was enormous, and looked to be some sort of entry hall. A wide staircase led up to a balcony on the second floor, and against the wall right on the top was an aged portrait of an old man. With a jolt, Rebecca recognized him as the same person that had broken into a swarm of leeches and attacked her on the train. Above the portrait was a large stone statue of a woman holding a pair of scales in her hand.

"I wonder what we're supposed to do in here," Billy muttered.

Rebecca was too busy to hear him. She had discovered an ancient typewriter on a desk in one corner of the room. It was full of paper, and there were several ink ribbons in one of the desk drawers.

"Don't you see; this is great!" she exclaimed as she sat down and started typing, her small fingers clicking rhythmically against the keys. "With this, we can record everything that's happened to us, in case anyone ever needs to know."

"Yeah," Billy said, not really paying attention. He was gazing up at the statue on the second floor. "Maybe we should go take a look at that thing."

Rebecca finished typing her report and stood up. "Okay." They walked slowly up the stairs with the S.T.A.R.S. officer in front, her handgun pointed threateningly at shadows.

"Look," she said once they'd reached the second floor and were standing in front of the statue. "There's an inscription. It says: when good and evil are brought into balance, a new path will be opened to you."

Billy nodded decisively. "Okay, sweetheart. You sit on one side, and I'll sit on the other."

Rebecca snorted, not bothering to point out that he had mentioned who was "good" and who was "evil". "I have a better idea. Let's try this door."

She stepped forward, heading for the large, oaken double doors directly in front of them. Billy stayed close behind her as she pushed one of them open, then quickly lifted her handgun to cover the area. She needn't have bothered: the room was empty except for several rows of neatly aligned desks, with a computer in front that refused to turn on when she pushed the power button. A small white object marked "Microfilm A" was sitting on top of it. Rebecca took it and headed for another door near the corner of the room.

The first thing she heard upon entering the dark, narrow hallway was a loud, guttural groan. She wasn't sure, but the bubbling noise that accompanied it sounded like it came from something with a large hole in its throat. She fired several shots from her handgun, and heard the zombie fall.

"The infection is here, too?" she said quietly. "Did it spread from the zombies on the train?"

Billy wasn't listening. "Take a look at this."

Rebecca inspected the piece of paper tacked to the wall. It appeared to be a map of the mansion. Straining her eyes to see in the poor lighting, she located the hallway they were standing in. Shortly in front of them, it turned a corner and ended in a locked door.

"It's back the way we came, I guess," she said. Before leaving, she tore the map off the wall, folded it, and put it in her med kit.

As they re-entered the computer room, Rebecca noticed that it was actually larger than it looked, although it could only be noticed when going in a certain direction. In the two corners of the room closest to the double doors were other exits. She consulted the map. One was marked as leading to the "lift room", while the other led to the library.

"Let's check the library," she suggested to Billy, who shrugged.

"Okay."

But to her disappointment, the door had no handle and stubbornly refused either to slide or to cave in when pushed. She slapped her hand against it, mentally cursing whoever had designed this place. _It's worse than the train!_

"There's a burned-out candle over here," Billy called from the corner. "Maybe if we light it, we'll be able to find some clues."

Rebecca brightened for a moment, and then her shoulders sagged in defeat. "It's no good. We don't have any matches."

"There's a lighter in my right front pocket," said Billy. "I always keep it on me in case of emergencies. I think this counts. Of course, if you don't want to take these handcuffs off, you're going to have to get it yourself-"

Before he could say anything else to embarrass her, she stalked up to him and shoved her hand into the indicated pocket, fishing around until she found the lighter. Billy grinned at her, and she briefly considered setting fire to his eyebrows.

Turning back to the candle, she flicked open the lighter's lid and rolled her thumb along the wheel. It clicked, but no little flame emerged. She held it up to her ear and shook it.

"Empty," she said.

Billy winced. "Oh shit, I forgot. Well, put it back."

"No way," Rebecca said, slipping it into her med kit. "I'm not reaching back into your pocket. This is mine now."

"You thief!" Billy protested, his eyes glittering with laughter. "You should be the one in handcuffs, not me."

"Well," said Rebecca, "since we can't do anything here for a while, let's go back down to the main hall and explore some of the other rooms."

This turned out to be a good idea; it the storage room, sitting on a shelf, they found a small black statue of a torso without arms or a head. A single bat-like wing sprouted from its shoulder.

"This is odd," Rebecca said as she pocketed the statue. "I wonder what good it does."

"I'm sure we'll find out," Billy replied. "For now, let's check the-" he peered at the map "-the sitting room, yeah. It's through a door on the east side of the main hall."

"We haven't seen any zombies for a while," Rebecca noted as she pushed open the sitting room door.

"Let's hope it stays that way," Billy replied.

They looked around the sitting room, being careful not to miss anything of importance. Rebecca got down on her hands and knees and checked under all the armchairs while Billy scrutinized the windowsills and shelves. At last, the convict raised his voice and called, "There might be something on this shelf. I can't reach it, though."

Rebecca came to look, but the place he was looking at was a shelf above her reach. She stood on her tiptoes, but even then, her fingertip could barely brush the edge.

"Boost me up," she commanded. Obediently, Billy went down on one knee, holding his other leg out in front of him at a right angle, boot against the floor, to provide her with a step. She climbed up, grabbing his head with one hand to steady herself as she stretched up as high as she could. Her searching fingers found a long, round object, and she pulled it down with a triumphant nod.

At that moment, the glass panes of two of the windows exploded into a million shards. Startled, Rebecca slipped off of Billy's supporting leg and fell to the floor. Inhuman screeches and shrieks filled her ears. Before she could recover and go for her handgun, however, a heavy weight pressed down on her, and Billy's voice hissed in her ear, "Close your eyes. They'll go for those first."

She squeezed her eyelids shut so hard that she saw stars. It seemed that all her senses here heightened: she could smell the rotting scent of death from the creatures that had broken through the window, and hear their foul cries as they swooped about, looking for prey. Fainter, but still present, was the sound of Billy's quiet breathing in her ear, and the feel of his heartbeat racing wildly next to hers. In her terror, she didn't even notice that her free hand had come up to grip his shoulder, her nails leaving tiny red crescents in his flesh.

And just like that, the flapping and screeching was gone, and Billy rolled off of her, lying flat on his back on the floor and breathing heavily. Rebecca sat up and opened her eyes.

"What _were_ those?"

"Crow zombies," said Billy. "The virus must have infected a whole flock of them. It's lucky you fell down when you did, or they might have had us. There were too many for you to fight off."

His voice was tired, and for the first time, Rebecca saw how big of a toll their night's adventures had taken on him. _It must be a lot more frightening_, she thought, _when you have to face undead creatures with your hands cuffed behind your back and no way to defend yourself. And on top of that, he's been watching out for me. _

In a tender, almost motherly gesture, she brushed back the hair that had fallen into his face during the excitement. "Come on, Billy," she said. "We're still alive, and it's going to stay that way. We'll make it out of this, you'll see."

His teeth flashed in his trademark charming grin. "Of course we will, sweetheart."

She shook her head, thinking to herself that she had never met anyone quite as … _interesting _… as Billy Coen.

As she stood up, the object that she had pulled from the shelf fell to the ground. She picked it up again and looked at it. It was a crank; marked in bold letters on the wooden handle was _Upstairs Lift. _

"I think I know where this goes," she murmured.

It was a long trek back up the stairs and through the room with the computer, but eventually, they reached the place where the lift was located. Sure enough, there was a square hold in the control panel. Rebecca fit the crank into the hole and tried to turn it, but it wouldn't move.

Billy, watching her struggle, laughed. "You're too small to do that, sweetheart. It takes a lot of muscle to send something like that up, especially if there's a person on it."

Rebecca felt too exhausted to take offense at his comment. "I suppose you want me to cuff your hands in front of you again," she said.

"If we're ever going to get anywhere, I think you want it to," Billy replied. Reluctantly, Rebecca had to admit that it made sense. She couldn't do this without his help.

She fixed his handcuffs and went to stand on the lift, her handgun held ready in case of trouble. She and Billy exchanged one last glance before he placed his hands on the crank handle.

"Be careful up there," he said.

She nodded. "Don't run away."

He nodded back, and to her surprise, she realized that she believed him. Then the platform she was standing on began to move, and Billy dropped out of sight below her. She felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach when she realized that she was completely alone. Even after only a few hours of knowing him, it was weird not to have Billy standing behind her, making annoying comments. Most of the time, he was even annoying when he was being helpful. But then, whenever he knew she was in danger, he put aside his bizarre attitude and jumped to her defense.

The lift stopped moving, and Rebecca jerked her thoughts away from the man waiting one floor below her. She had to concentrate on the present now. She looked around, scanning for any sign of danger.

The first thing she noticed about the room was that there was a large clock sitting in the middle of it. The middle hand was missing from the face.

The second thing she noticed was the horrible sound, like thousands of tiny feet skittering across wood. At the same time, a dark shape the size of a dog emerged from the shadows behind the clock, waving its antennae at her.

Rebecca screamed, all thoughts of fighting abandoned as she fled for the wooden door on the side of the room. Ever since she had been a child, she had hated earwigs. And now she was faced with one that was about a million times its original size. She would rather do battle again an army of zombies than face even one of those horrible things.

She slammed the door behind her, catching one of the things antennae. It broke off and fell to the ground next to her, wiggling obscenely. She shrieked again and stomped on it until it was nothing more than a smear on the floor.

A series of soft thumps against the wood at her back indicated that there was more than one of the awful creatures. Jamming the door's lock as deep into the opposite side as it would go, she started running across the moonlit balcony towards the exit on the other side. A crow swooped towards her, its eyes unnaturally red. Rebecca smacked it with her handgun, taking it out of the air. It fell to the stone, twitching weakly.

She reached to door to safety, only to realize that something else had gotten there before her. The creature - whatever it was - was throwing itself against the other side of the door and making a lot of noise. It took Rebecca a moment to identify the sounds and words, and another few seconds to identify the voice as Billy's.

"Rebecca!" he was shouting. "Are you okay? Answer me! Fuck this door! Fuck!" His words dissolved into a long string of curses.

Rebecca would have liked to open the door for him, but she didn't dare get close to it, since it looked like it would tear off its hinges at any moment. Instead, she watched as the solid wood trembled a few times, creaked, and then burst open. Billy tumbled out, rolling a few times before leaping up and looking around wildly. When he saw Rebecca squeezed into a corner, he ran over to her. Her shoulders were so small that he could grab them even with his hands cuffed together.

"Are you okay?" he demanded. "You're not hurt?"

"F-fine," Rebecca stammered, taken aback by the worry in his eyes.

He sighed in relief, releasing her. "The way you were carrying on, I thought something was _killing _you."

"No," she said, feeling ashamed for the obvious distress that she'd inadvertently caused him. "I just ran into and enormous earwig, and it scared me."

"Oh, is that all?"

She took out the handcuff key and motioned for him to hold out his wrists. As she fastened his wrists behind his back, she caught sight of a large bruise beginning to form on his upper arm. In places, his skin was lacerated and oozing blood. Looking at the broken door, she saw that it was smeared with red.

"Oh, Billy," she sighed as she rubbed arnica gel on his shoulder and wrapped it in a bandage. "Why can't you be more careful?"

"I thought you were in trouble," he said.

Rebecca didn't know what to say, so instead she stepped through the doorway that Billy had burst from. She found herself in a long tunnel with a bunch of cages stacked on one side. Inside one of them was an object that glittered in the weak light. Rebecca jogged over to it and knelt down, sticking her slender arm in between the bars.

"Just a little further," she grunted, wiggling to gain more access. Her fingertips found the object and she tugged it out. It was a key with a red tag on the top.

She was just turning around to show Billy her discovery when she saw something that made the blood drain from her face. Creeping up behind him on silent legs was a creature whose many appendages waved wildly as it reared towards the ceiling. Rebecca opened her mouth to warn Billy, but it was too late. Before she could even make a sound, the creature had wrapped several of its many legs around his body and closed its pincers tightly on his neck.


	6. Mistress Centipede

Chapter Six:

Mistress (or Master?) Centipede

**Sorry about the evil ending, everyone ... it's nothing bad, I promise :) ... anyway, thank you all so much for the reviews! I glow every time I see that the number has risen. I especially want to thank the people who have reviewed more than once ... you guys are great. As for the different endings that I mentioned earlier, I'm not going to say too much - just that I'm planning five of them, because I think that people have the right to read tragedy or comedy or romance all in the same story. So, thanks again, and please enjoy!**

"Billy!"

Rebecca's piercing cry split the air as she called his name, her fingers stretching out towards him in a desperate act. She caught a handful of his dark grey cut-off shirt, but it was just as quickly jerked from her grasp as the monstrous centipede raised itself to its full height. Billy hung limply from its jaws, and Rebecca's heart froze when she realized how easily the beast could sever his neck with a single bite.

"Hang on!" she yelled, not knowing if he could even hear her. "I'm going to save you, Billy."

The centipede rushed forward and struck her with one of its legs, sending her flying backwards into one of the square columns that supported the ceiling. She winced at the shock and shook her head to clear it. For what she was about to do, she would need all her concentration.

At the giant, mutated insect charged again, Rebecca lifted her handgun and took aim. _Steady, girl … if I miss now, I could shoot Billy by accident. _

She began firing, pumping the rounds out as fast as her finger could hit the trigger. The centipede squealed as the bullets tore through its sensitive stomach area, causing streams of unnamable goo to spurt forth. Rebecca flinched as her last bullet hit home barely an inch away from Billy's leg. The monster reared up even higher before dropping onto its side, where it writhed and flailed, taking chunks out of the nearby walls.

Shoving a fresh clip into her gun, Rebecca walked forward until she stood at the creatures head. She pressed the muzzle of her gun right up to the flesh and emptied all five bullets into the creatures brain with a series of muffled pops. It spasmed once more before dying. Billy rolled from between the suddenly flaccid legs and came to a halt face down on the floor. Rebecca ran to him and turned him over, feeling a stab of fear when she saw his dark his lashes lay against his cheeks.

She pressed her hand against his neck and was relieved to feel his arteries pulsing steadily under her palm. She sighed deeply, the tension going out of her shoulders, as he stirred and groaned.

"How are you?" she murmured.

"I've been … better," he croaked. His eyes blinked open. "Yeah, definitely been better. I would have to say that having my ass kicked by a giant centipede is a new experience for me - one that I hope never to repeat."

"At least the beastie didn't hurt your tongue any," Rebecca commented, hiding her relief behind sour humor. "As for your brain, that was questionable to begin with."

"Someone's feeling full of themselves," Billy said, sitting up and rubbing his sore shoulder. "Just because they took down a whole insect."

"A _giant _insect about the size of the train we rode here on," Rebecca pointed out. "And I managed to rescue you as well. I think I deserve a little credit."

The corners of Billy's dark eyes crinkled as he grinned at her. "All right, sweetheart. Good job. And thanks for saving me."

Remembering his words to her earlier that evening, she smiled back. "I'll put it on your tab."

Billy was about to shoot back what was probably intended to be a smart reply, but stopped, his eyes fixed on something behind Rebecca. She turned around and saw that something small and white was inside of a hole in the centipede's lower half. Swallowing her distaste, she reached forward and plucked it out, wiping off the slime on the centipede's body.

The thing she'd recovered was a tiny statue similar to the one they'd already found, but wingless and white. Rebecca pulled the other figurine out and compared them.

"A demon and an angel," Billy said, looking over her shoulder. "How symbolic."

His words struck a chord in Rebecca's mind. "_When Good and Evil are brought into balance, a new path will be opened to you,_" she murmured, quoting the words at the base of the statue of the woman holding scales. "Come on. We need to go back to the main hall."

Rebecca couldn't hold back an eager smile as she set first one statue and then the other onto the scales. She listened for any indication that a door had been released somewhere, but all was silent. She glanced down at the scales; the one with the demon was tipped ever so slightly more than the angel one.

"Looks like Evil's a bit heavier," she observed.

"Yeah, it seems like that's usually that case," Billy said. Rebecca had a sneaking suspicion that he was not referring to the statues, but she didn't press the matter further. Instead, she brought out the map and looked at it.

"Where haven't we been?"

"The kitchen," Billy said, pointing to an area downstairs.

Rebecca shuddered, remembering the last kitchen she'd been in, when the zombified chef had burst out of the refrigerator and tried to bite her. Only Billy's quick reflexes had saved her from becoming just another member of the horde of mindless flesh-eaters.

"It's worth a try, anyway," the convict said, turning to head back down the stairs. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Your knight in shining handcuffs will save you if we run into any trouble."

Rebecca laughed. After everything they'd been through, it felt good to hear someone make jokes. She tried not to think about the fact that this 'someone' just happened to be the man she'd arrested.

_I don't need to think about this right now, _she told herself as they headed downstairs. _I can decide what to do with Billy after we get out of here alive, and I'm reunited with my team._

_What do you mean 'what to do with him'? _the side of her that was completely dedicated to the job and refused to trust anyone asked. _He's a convicted felon accused of murdering 23 people. You're going to turn him in. _

_Am I?_

With alarm, she realized that she was not looking forward to the moment when she had to see Billy taken away to be executed. She had thought that turning in her first criminal would be a rewarding experience, sort of her 'proof of being a real police officer'. She had thought that if she brought in a man as dangerous as Billy Coen, no one on the force would be able to baby her anymore. They would have to accept her as an equal.

_If only it wasn't him, _she thought. _Why does he have to be so nice and easy to get along with? I _like _him. I don't want him to die. _

Her feelings of guilt grew even worse when she realized that Billy had never indicated that he expected anything other than for her to turn him in. He had never asked to be let go in exchange for saving her life, although he easily could have.

_So that means … he still wants to protect me even though he knows that he'll probably die for it in the end, and that he could save his own life by just ditching me and getting the hell out of here. Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?_

Billy's voice broke into her thoughts. "Something on your mind, sweetheart?"

She blinked at him, startled. _Did he somehow guess what I've been thinking about? Is he going to decide he be better off with me dead after all? _"What? Uh, nothing at all … yeah. Why?"

"Because you've been standing in front of the door for about a minute now, just staring at it," he replied. "Aren't we going in?"

"Oh, yeah. Right." She tried to turn the doorknob, only to find out it was locked. When she pointed this out to Billy, he said, "I know. I just said that to you about thirty seconds ago."

She stared at him. "You did?"

"Uh huh," he nodded. A sly smile crossed his face. "If I didn't know better, sweetheart, I'd say you're acting like a schoolgirl with a crush."

She gave him an acid glare. "Luckily for you, you _do _know better, Coen. You can forget about that thought. I'm just a little tired, that's all."

"Sure," he replied, his cocky grin refusing to fade. Rebecca glowered at him for a few more seconds, just for good measure, before bringing out the keys that she seemed to be collected ever since she found the stupid train. She sorted through them, and eventually decided to try the red-tagged key that she'd found just before the centipede had grabbed Billy.

It fit perfectly into the lock, and with an easy _snick_, the door swung open. Rebecca stepped through, her eyes warily searching around the room. A man's body, dressed in a white apron, sat in the corner. His eyes were closed, and blood clotted around a wound in his chest. Rebecca inched forward, terrified that he would suddenly come to life, but he remained unmoving.

"This one wasn't killed by any zombie," Billy remarked, staring down at the corpse. "He was stabbed with a kitchen knife."

Rebecca glanced away from the gruesome sight and focused on the man's right hand, which was holding some sort of weapon. She picked it up and examined it; it was a rather out-dated but still working model of a grenade launcher. It was still loaded, and three more rounds for it sat in a case nearby. Rebecca's eyes lit up.

"This is great!" she told Billy. "Now I feel safer. I wish that I'd had this in the fight against the centipede."

Billy shuddered. "I'm kind of glad that you didn't, or I might be missing multiple limbs right now."

A quick search of the kitchen supplied them with several more useful items. One was a can of lighter fluid, which Rebecca used to fill Billy's lighter. The other was a large selection of butcher knives. After some deliberation, Rebecca took the largest for her and tucked her own combat knife into Billy's belt.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" he demanded. "I can't use it with handcuffs on."

Rebecca shrugged. "Hold it between your teeth," she suggested. A moment later, she burst into laughter as Billy doubled over, craning his neck and trying to bite down on the knife's handle.

"I can't even reach it!"

Banishing the last of her chuckles - it was nice to see him at a loss once in a while - she straightened up. "Okay, back to business. Let's head upstairs. Maybe now that we've got a working lighter, that candle will be more useful."

She strode away with Billy trailing after, muttering about useless weapons.

The computer room was just as empty as when they'd left it last, which to Rebecca was not disappointing in the slightest. With no ammo for either her pistol or shotgun, she had to rely solely the on grenade launcher to keep her and Billy safe. And she didn't want to use up the precious rounds for that on zombies.

Taking out the lighter, she flicked it open and spun the wheel. This time, to her relief, a little flame arose, flickering in the darkness. She brought it up to the burnt-out wick of the candle, and it caught immediately.

No sooner had the wick begun to burn than a grating noise filled their ears, and the handleless door that Rebecca had noticed earlier slid open, revealing a new room. Lifting her grenade launcher higher, Rebecca stepped through the opening, and gasped in surprise.


	7. Like Finding a Needle in a Moose

Chapter Seven:

Like Finding a Needle in a Moose

**Sorry for the delay on getting this chapter up ... I had a really busy day with nonstop action. I hope no one was worried :) - and in case you're wondering, the thing they run into at the end is one of those leech zombies that chase you through the mansion. I know it's out of place, but I needed some way to end the chapter with excitement. Rebecca shows some temper in this chapter ... that's because I figured that all the horrible things she's faced, plus her guilt over her conflicting feelings for Billy will have been wearing on her. Don't worry though, she gets sweet again soon. Thanks for reading! **

They were standing it what appeared to be some sort of library, with bookshelves that stretched up to the ceiling. Rebecca, who had loved books since before she was old enough to read, stared around in awe.

"It's … amazing," she whispered.

Billy chuckled at her reaction. "I might have figured you for a bookworm."

"What's wrong with that?" she demanded.

"Nothing at all," Billy replied. "It suits you."

Rebecca wasn't sure how to respond to that, so she didn't. Instead, she stepped up onto the raised platform in the center of the room. Here, four bookshelves were grouped to make a square. Unfortunately, they all had solid backs, and Rebecca was too short to peer over them. She located one that was smaller than the others and called to Billy.

"Do you think you could push this one aside?"

He glanced at it. "Sure thing, sweetheart." He set his shoulder against the solid wood, but drew back almost immediately with a hiss of pain. When Rebecca looked at him, he muttered, "Wrong shoulder. I forgot," and turned around so that he was throwing his weight against his uninjured side.

With a creak, the bookshelf slowly shifted, and Rebecca slid through the little gap. Within the square was a pedestal that held a singe book, the cover of which was inscribed with "The Book of Good." Rebecca took it, noting that it was heavier than she had expected. When she opened it, however, she saw that instead of text, a pair of white wings was set in a cavity in the pages.

She showed them to Billy, and the realization in his eyes prompted her to believe that she had been right as well. "It goes with the angel statue, doesn't it?" she said.

Billy nodded. "I would imagine so."

Rebecca was about to leave the library and head back into the computer room when something occurred to her.

"Hold on," she said to Billy. "I should put this book back where I found it." Stepped through the gap in the bookshelves, she placed the now empty book on the pedestal. Moments later, she jumped in alarm as she heard a low grinding noise from the main room.

"Billy?" she called. "Is everything okay?"

"Come out here and see," he called back. Rebecca rejoined him, following his gaze to see that one of the shelves on the far wall had sunk down into the floor, revealing a new passageway.

The room that they entered upon following it was shrouded in darkness. Rebecca stumbled against a low table and barked her shin. She brought out Billy's lighter and flicked it on, but the weak flame did nothing to help her see.

"There's a light switch over here," the convict said from the corner of the room.

"Does it work?" she asked suspiciously. "We don't have to solve any stupid puzzle before the power will come on?"

He turned around brought his cuffed hands up as high as he could, flipping the switch. The overhead lamp blinked on, bathing the room in artificial sunlight. It was messy, with chairs knocked over and papers strewn everywhere. On one wall was a enormous stuffed moose head with eyes that reflected the light in such a way that they appeared to be glowing.

"Look!" Rebecca exclaimed suddenly. "There's something stuck in the moose's antler!"

"I'll boost you up there," Billy offered. He knelt down, and Rebecca climbed up onto his shoulders, steadying herself against the wall and being careful not to step on his wound. He raised himself slowly up, and Rebecca stretched until she could grab the thing embedded in the antler and jerk it free. It was a long, flat needle with a round hole in the thicker end.

"I got it," she said, and Billy knelt back down again. She hopped down off his shoulders and examined the curious item.

"Weird," she said. "I wonder where it goes."

"Think," said Billy. "Is there any place we've been that we haven't fully explored?"

Only one room came to Rebecca's mind. She blanched, shaking her head grimly. "No, I can't go back in there, Billy. Don't ask me to."

"Sh, it's okay, sweetheart," Billy murmured. "You don't have to go in. Just take off my handcuffs and give me a weapon, and I'll do it for you."

But in her unreasonable, fear-driven state, she misunderstood what he wanted. "No!" she cried. "If I do that, you'll leave me, or … or …" She never finished her sentence, but Billy recoiled as if he'd been slapped. The hurt in his eyes brought Rebecca back to her senses.

"I'm sorry, Billy," she said softly. "I'd like to; I really would. But I can't. I probably shouldn't even have made all the compromises I already have. I'll go into the room. Now that I think about it, I already know what I need to do."

The pained expression didn't vanish, but he nodded slowly. "As you like, Rebecca. I'm going with you, though, no matter what you say."

She dipped her head in acceptance, drawing strength from the steel in his gaze as she turned around and prepared to go and face the worst thing - in her opinion - that she had yet encountered.

The first thing she realized upon stepping onto the balcony was that the earwigs - there were three of them, each as ugly and mutated and _large _as the others - had broken through the attic door and were swarming around, clicking loudly.

Before she could think about the wisdom of wasting precious ammo, Rebecca had leveled her grenade launcher and fired off two rounds. When she smoke cleared, the earwigs were nothing more than a heap of twitching legs and antennae.

Rebecca reloaded the grenade launcher, her fear fading now that the horrid creatures were dead. Billy nodded admiringly; apparently he had forgiven her for her fearful exclamation earlier.

Rebecca entered the attic again, dreading that she might hear the rustling of insect legs against the wooden floor. All was silent, however, and with Billy keeping diligent watch, she relaxed enough to concentrate on the puzzle at hand.

Taking the needle out of her med kit, she fitted it onto the peg for the missing second hand. To her disappointment, nothing happened. _Perhaps I have to set it to the correct time, _she thought.

"What time is it, Billy?" she asked without thinking. A moment later, she realized how pointless her question was; he didn't have a watch, and he wouldn't have been able to look at it even if he had.

The convict narrowed his eyes as he considered. "Well, when we met on the train, it was about five in the afternoon, and I'm betting that three hours have passed since then. So my best guess would be that it's in the vicinity of 8:00."

Rebecca spun the hands until they were resting in the appropriate spots. Still nothing. Carefully, she inched the improvised minute hand forward, stopping briefly on each dot to see if it was the right one. She was about to give up when she reached the fifteen minute mark, only to hear a little sound, like the catch of a lock being released. A tiny, concealed door in the side of the clock slid open, revealing another piece of microfilm, this time marked B.

"There must be a projector room around here somewhere," Rebecca murmured as she brought out the map. Sure enough, a small room in the southwest corner of the mansion was marked as such. Luckily for her and Billy, they encountered nothing remotely menacing on their way there.

The projector room was locked, but the red-tagged key opened it. Strangely enough, someone had actually left a box of handgun rounds on the table. Rebecca picked them up and gratefully reloaded her pistol, slinging the grenade launcher on her back next to the empty shotgun. The weight of all her weapons was beginning to slow her down, but she was unwilling to drop anything that might be able to save their lives.

Taking out both of the microfilms, she loaded them into the projector and displayed the image they contained on the screen mounted on the wall. The picture showed an overview of a room that contained four rows of desks with a pathway down the middle dividing them into two groups. Numbers and letters were overlaid onto the desktops.

"I recognize that room," Billy said suddenly. "That's where we lit the candle."

"You're right," Rebecca said. Quickly, she memorized the layout of the desks and their corresponding numbers and letters. "Okay, let's go."

"Wait," said Billy. When she turned back to him, he nodded at something lying on the floor. "You might want to pick that up."

She did. Examination proved it to be an MO disk for rebooting a computer. Rebecca tucked it into her pocket.

_We've got to be close to the end of this mess, _she thought as they made their way back through the mansion to the computer room. _Maybe whatever we'll get from the computer will open a way out for us. _

When they opened the computer room door, Rebecca immediately noticed that a zombie had found its way inside. She shot it in the head, and it sagged against the computer table, dead - or since it had technically already been dead, Rebecca thought, perhaps the correct term was re-dead. Grimacing, she pushed it aside with her boot and inserted the MO disk into the proper drive. The computer screen flickered on, displaying two symbols.

"A4," Rebecca read. She glanced at the desks; they all had keypads in one corner.

"Billy," she said, "stay right here, by this desk. I'm going over to that one. When I tell you, push the A button on your desk's keypad. Okay?"

"How am I supposed to do that?" Billy asked, jangling his handcuffs to prove his point. Rebecca scowled at him.

_You don't need to remind me that I made you helpless. I know that very well enough. It's hard on me, too, having to be the one that does everything. _But she didn't speak her uncharitable thoughts aloud. Instead, she shrugged. "I don't know. Push it with your nose. Whatever works."

"Like hell I'm doing that, sweetheart," Billy snorted. "I think you're just plotting to make me look like a moron." Carefully, he scooted up onto the desk until he was sitting on it, facing Rebecca with his hand on the keypad. "Just put my finger on the right button, and I'll push it when you tell me."

"I hardly need to plot to make you look like a moron," Rebecca said, but her tone was softer than her words. She was glad that Billy had his back to her as she took his large hand in hers and placed his outstretched index finger in the right spot. She didn't want him to see the blush that lightly colored her cheeks.

She headed over to her own desk, found the right button, and nodded to the convict. "Okay. Press it now."

A loud beep signified that he had done his job. As soon as she heard it, Rebecca punched her own button, jumping in surprise as a loud, droning voice emerged from the computer.

"Attention," it said, "security doors disengaged. The infirmary, the game room, and the courtyard are all accessible. Attention." It went on to repeat the message several times. But Rebecca was not paying attention, for something else was occupying her urgent thoughts.

As if drawn by the monotonous voice, a terrible creature - a beast whose brown, lumpy skin writhed continuously over its misshapen body - had burst through the door and was advancing steadily on them.


	8. Rush of Adrenaline

Chapter Eight:

Rush of Adrenaline

**As always, I want to thank everyone very much for the reviews! It's much more than I expected. Man, this chapter was really hard to write, mostly the chess scene. I actually did spend a lot of time trying to look up proper ways to checkmate, but then I didn't really end up describing it very well. Sorry ... anyway, I hope that you all like it. I'm considering putting some of Billy's perspective in the next chapter, while he's rushing to save Rebecca from falling. What does everyone think?**

"Run!" Billy exclaimed, jumping down from his desk and jerking his head towards the door. When she hesitated, he snapped, "Rebecca, with our current firepower, we don't stand a chance against that thing. Now let's get out of here while we have the chance!"

Rebecca knew he was right. Turning away from the awful creature, she ran for the door, with Billy just a few steps behind her. Once they were both out, she slammed it and turned the lock, desperately hoping that the strange zombie wasn't smart enough to figure out where they'd gone.

"Did you see that thing?" Billy gasped, bending over as he caught his breath.

"Yeah," said Rebecca. Images of the moving skin were etched into her mind. "It looked like it was made of … leeches." Realization struck her. "Just like the creature you saved me from on the train!"

"It's all too weird," Billy muttered. "All of these things should be impossible. I mean, dead people who come back to life? Come on, we've been watching that in horror movies since we were kids. I for one would like to know just what is going on here."

"I think this place probably has something to do with it," Rebecca said quietly as they began inching away from the door. "As far as I remember, this mansion belongs to a man named Dr. Marcus, who's been dead for ten years. It was his portrait that we saw in the main hall. And -" she gulped, "he also looked just like the man who turned into leeches on the train."

"But if he's been dead for ten years," Billy said slowly, "then why was he there?"

"I don't know," Rebecca said, "but if we stay here long enough, we're bound to find out. Come one, let's go this way. I think it leads to the infirmary."

The hallway they were walking through was crowded with three zombies, and Rebecca wasted nearly all her handgun bullets trying to get rid of them. In the poor lighting, her shots were hard to judge, and several missed, either hitting the walls or harmlessly striking the zombies' bodies rather than their heads.

"Four rounds left," she said grimly. "And I have two grenades in back-up, and then we'll be fighting them off with our bare hands."

Luckily, the infirmary was free of any monsters. Rebecca stocked up on as many useful items as she could, including more bandages and disinfectant, as well as painkillers and a bottle of first aid spray that would cause the blood to clot quicker around an injury, stopping the wounded person from bleeding to death.

Branching off of the same hallway the infirmary was located on was the game room, which they entered next. It was not quite what Rebecca had expected; the entire floor was patterned like a chess board, with several pieces as large as herself placed in various positions. Rebecca checked the desk in case it had any helpful hints, but all she found was a scrap of paper, upon which was written, cryptically:

_With two men of God standing by his side, the Devil captured the White King. _

"What do you think this means?" Rebecca asked Billy, reading the strange sentence out loud to him. The convict frowned, considering the floor-sized board in front of him.

"In chess," he said, "capturing would indicate taking another piece. But if you capture either one of the kings, then you win. A 'man of god' could refer to a bishop, so I think what the riddle is telling us is that we're supposed to move the pieces so that they reflect this situation: black winning because they got a checkmate on the white king with two bishops."

Walking over to stand beside the white king, who was sitting in a corner, guarded by a single pawn, Billy set his shoulder against it and shoved it one space to the left. As the heavy piece landed on the square, however, it sank down slightly and a flashing red light illuminated the room in an eerie glow. A hiss of gas escaping from a vent filled Rebecca's ears, and she coughed as the vile scent filled her throat. At the same time, a loud click indicated that the door had locked itself.

"Billy!" she cried, her own voice sounding weak in her ears. "They're trying to poison us! Whatever you do, don't breath in!"

She saw him clamp his mouth shut immediately, feverishly studying the puzzle. Rebecca fumbled in her med kit for the proper supplies to treat the poison. She filled a syringe, holding it ready so that she could administer a dose as soon as the gas stopped.

Billy was pushing another piece into position. Rebecca's gaze swam slightly as she watched him. She fought to keep unconsciousness from claiming her as Billy finished and started heading towards the third piece. She could tell that the gas was affecting him; his movements were slow and halting. Fervently, she hoped that his strength would hold out until he could finish the puzzle.

Seconds dragged on, and Billy staggered, leaning against the second bishop for a moment before starting to push it. Rebecca's legs went numb and she slid to the ground, all of her energy concentrated on the syringe in her hand, full of clear fluid that would save her life. He was almost there.

_Hurry up, Billy. Hurry … please … Billy … _

She heard the grating of stone as the pressure plate under the final piece sank down, and the hissing stopped. She tried to lift her hand to sink the needle into her arm, but all of her strength had deserted her. Her fingers felt a weak as a newborn's; the syringe slipped from her grasp and rolled onto the floor.

She thought she heard a voice calling her name, and she forced her eyes open just in time to see Billy collapse on the floor a few feet away.

_No! _she thought, _I can't let him die. I have to save him! _

Grabbing the fallen syringe, she jammed the needle point into her arm and pushed the cap down, feeling as if she was trying to lift a car. Her heartbeat was unnaturally loud, and she could feel it throughout her entire body. Her vision cleared slightly as the anti-venom cleared her system, and she knew that she had to work quickly if she wanted to help Billy before it was too late. She didn't even feel her hands as they reached into her med kit and filled the syringe with another dose. Gripping the needle in her teeth, she crawled on her hands and knees over to Billy prone form and fell on top of him, gasping for air as she readied the needle.

The only thought that her hazy mind was able to process as she located the large vein in his wrist was, _thank God he fell on his face, not his back. I can reach his arms … _Digging her fingernail into his flesh to raise the vein up, she plunged the needle into it. Then, unable to do any more, she laid her head down on his back and closed her eyes.

She awoke sometime later with a throbbing headache. Her cheek was pressed against something warm, and she realized with alarm that Billy was still underneath her. In fact, he hadn't moved an inch since she had administered the anti-venom. A cold chill shot through her as she realized that she might have failed to save him.

_Was I too late? Or was I so confused by the poison gas that I gave him the wrong medicine? _

"Billy?" she said softly, sitting up and shaking his shoulder. "Are you okay? Billy?"

Her heart began to beat again when he stirred and groaned, opening his eyes. "Ugh," he rasped. "I never get headaches this bad, even when I'm hungover."

A strange image of Billy passed out on someone's kitchen floor after having too much to drink entered Rebecca's mind, and fled soon after. "I'm glad you're alive," she said. "I was worried that I might have injected you with the wrong thing."

He rolled over onto his back and sat up, wincing and moving his head experimentally from side to side. "I'm still here, sweetheart. As far as I can tell, though, we did all this for nothing."

"Not necessarily true," Rebecca said, noticing something different about the room - or specifically, the desk standing in the corner. She stood up, glad that she was able to move again, although her legs still felt like they were made of jelly.

"There's a book here," she continued, picking it up. "The Book of Evil. And inside, we have a single bat wing."

"So," said Billy. "Back to the main hall."

"Yep, to the main hall," Rebecca echoed.

The game room had been on the second floor of the building, so they didn't have to climb the stairs again. Rebecca was glad; with the way her legs were feeling, she wasn't sure she would have been up for it. Billy also looked a little weaker than usual, although he was trying his best not to show it.

It was a very satisfying moment for the young medic when she attached both sets of wings to the proper statues and saw the scales even out. As expected, she heard a rumbling noise from below. What she had _not _anticipated was that the thing that had moved was the portrait of Dr. Marcus. It had risen up to reveal a secret stairway, leading down to a basement with brick walls. A zombie waiting just inside the door lurched out, groaning his pleasure at experiencing freedom. Rebecca waited until he was close to shoot him; she didn't want to waste any more bullets than she needed to, and her aim was feeling a little shaky.

"Look," she said to Billy, "he was a soldier. He's wearing a back- what's wrong?"

Billy was staring at the dead man with a strange expression on his face. He turned away sharply, heading down the stairs. Rebecca didn't know what to make of his reaction - this was hardly the most horrifying thing they had faced. She decided to rifle through his backpack and was quite elated when she found four packs of shotgun ammo. She decided to give her handgun a rest for a while and use the more powerful weapon.

She caught up with Billy, who was waiting for her at the top of the secret stairs. He raised his eyebrows when he saw her wielding the shotgun, but made no comment. Instead, he headed downwards, his boots thumping softly against the brick.

They found themselves in a long hallway with a single door at the end and no enemies in sight. Rebecca was feeling pretty good until something dropped down in front of her with a loud squelching sound. She backed straight into Billy, accidentally treading on his foot.

"Sp-spider!" she exclaimed, although the thing in front of her could hardly be recognized as an arachnid. It's bulbous body was large enough to fill the corridor, an each of its black, hairy legs was longer than Rebecca's body.

"Shoot it," Billy urged, backing away to give her more room. She leveled the shotgun and fired both shells into the creature's body. Luckily, it lacked the hard armor that the scorpion and centipede had shared, and the pellets decimated its soft flesh and send it flying onto its back. It flailed around for a little while, and then sagged, the life going out of its limbs.

Rebecca reloaded her shotgun and progressed down the hallway, now wary of things dropping on her from above. She shot two more spiders before they reached the door, and opened it with trepidation. Fortunately, there was nothing more threatening than a single zombie in the new room, and a blast from the shotgun cleanly removed his all traces of his head from existence.

Rebecca looked around, groaning when she saw that they were in a dead end. She was just about to suggest that they head back to the main hall and try another way when she noticed that there was a small hole high up on the wall. She gauged it, and decided that it was just big enough for her to fit into.

"Billy," she said, "boost me up there."

He followed her gaze and frowned. "You want to go through that little hole? Are you crazy? You don't even know what's behind there."

"What if it's something useful?" she asked, a pleading note in her voice. "Plus, I'll have the shotgun. Nothing will happen to me."

"I'm not so sure about that. You seem to be a magnet for all kinds of trouble," Billy muttered, but he didn't protest any further. Rebecca guessed that he knew as well as she did that they were going to have to take risks if they wanted to make it out. Instead, he merely watched her glumly as she dropped her grenade launcher and handgun into a pile in the corner.

"Stay here and keep an eye on our stuff, okay?" she said. "I'll be back soon."

"Fine, sweetheart. Just be careful," he cautioned. She wasn't sure, but she thought that there was more meaning in his voice than usual when he called her by the pet name he'd decided on. He knelt down, and Rebecca climbed onto his back, hanging on tight as he stood up. She pushed the shotgun through the hole ahead of her, hanging onto the strap to keep it from falling as she pushed off of Billy's shoulder and wriggled through the gap, landing solidly on the ground.

"How's everything in there?" Billy's voice called through the hole.

Rebecca examined the room before replying. "Everything fine. No one's here. There's a door that I can probably leave by, and a power switch on this wall. I'm going to try it and see what I can do."

She leaned her shotgun up against the wall as she examined the switchboard. There were five switches in all, and above them was a power meter with a red mark at the number 80. Rebecca guessed that if the needle was any lower, the lights wouldn't turn on, and if it were any higher, she would blow the circuits. She fiddled with the switched for a while, trying to see how much power each one of them controlled. Then, when she felt she had the hang of it, she flipped four of them up and one down. The grimy electric bulb above her flicked on, shedding more light on the room, and Rebecca gasped in horror. The place appeared to be some sort of torture chamber, with various painful-looking devices scattered about.

She heard a noise behind her and immediately picked up her shotgun, spinning around and bringing the weapon up. She saw a flash of red-stained white fur and heard a feral roar. She only had time to fire the shotgun once before the creature struck her, sending her flying across the room. She cried out in pain as her back scraped roughly against the brick wall. She fumbled around for the shotgun, but it had been knocked out of her hand and was lying a few feet away. Groaning, she stumble upright, only to feel the creature's extremely mobile and human-like hands lock onto her arm, dragging her backwards. She felt her footing give was underneath her as she fell down into a hole in the center of the room.

Desperately, she grabbed out at the wall, and her hands managed to catch a small pipe sticking out of the bricks. She glanced downwards, but all she could see was darkness. She had no idea what had become of the creature that had thrown her here.

"Billy?" she called weakly, hoping that he would be able to hear her and respond.

There was a long moment of silence. Then, she heard his strong voice echoing around the room. "Rebecca! Are you okay? What happened?"

"Something knocked me down into a hole, and I can't get back up," she shouted. "I've grabbed a pipe, but I'm not sure how much longer I can hold on."

"Okay," he called back. "Just … just don't fall, okay? I'm coming for you. I'll be there as soon as I can." She could hear his footsteps pounding against the floor as he ran. Then all was silent, and she was left alone with only the sound of her breathing to keep her company. Her hand slipped a little on the pipe and she held on tighter, desperately wishing that Billy would arrive soon.


	9. The Hunters and Their Prey

Chapter Nine:

The Hunters and Their Prey

**Let me know what you think about this chapter, everyone. I'm curious to see how I did on Billy's perspective. I'm sorry that I didn't make it longer, but I decided that it would be silly to make him run all the way around, like he has to in the game, when all he has to do to save Rebecca is kick down a wall or two ... as always, thanks for reading! You guys who review, your feedback is invaluable!**

Billy knew that the smart thing to do would be to forget about the girl, loose the handcuffs, grab the weapons, and get the hell out of there before he got his ass killed by some demonic creature. It wouldn't be so hard; he had escaped from worse situations in his time.

But he couldn't. He couldn't forget the trust in Rebecca's voice as she called out for him to help her. He couldn't forget the worry in her eyes after she'd injected him with the anti-venom. He couldn't forget the gentleness in her touch as she bandaged his wounded shoulder.

"Dammit," he cursed softly, wishing that he had the map. He could only guess where he had to go as he ran back along the hallway, weaving around the dead spiders. She'd said there was a door - a way into the room she was trapped in. He had to find it, and fast.

A section of the wall that looked less-than-stable caught his eye. He slammed his boot against it, feeling the age-weakened bricks quiver under the force of his blow. He kept at it until there was a hole big enough for him to squeeze through, marveling at the strength that had seemed to come from nowhere. It was illogical, he knew, but whenever his mind told him that Rebecca was in danger, his body just took over. At that was how he had ended up nearly breaking his arm to bust down a door because he had heard her scream.

Billy himself didn't really understand the emotions that drove him to protect the S.T.A.R.S. girl. God knows he was going to pay for it in the end, one way or another. But he just couldn't bring himself to abandon such an innocent soul.

_That's it, _he thought, _she's a truly good person. Selfless, caring, naïve … she floats like an angel across the mucky swamp of the world, and comes out untarnished. Unlike me … I just wade right through and get completely covered in shit. But somehow, when I'm around her, it's like I feel clean again. Like the impurities are washed away, and I can experience what it is to be innocent, just a little kid trusting in the goodness of the world. _

Despite the tenseness of the situation, Billy almost laughed out loud. _Moron, you sound like a lovestruck collage boy writing a poem to the subject of his adoration. _

He was brought sharply back to the present by the realization that he had arrived at a door. Angry at himself for daring to pause and meditate on life when Rebecca needed his help, he burst through, knocking the door clean off its rusty hinges.

He knew at once that he was in the right room by the fact that Rebecca's shotgun was lying in the corner. Billy dropped to his knees by the hole in the floor and looked down. Rebecca's white face stared up at him, her eyes huge with relief.

"Billy," she breathed, and the tone of her voice made his heart seize up. He forced himself to look calm as he thought about the situation. _I can't reach down to her, and there's nothing in the room I could use to pull her up … _

"Hang on, sweetheart," he said, as comfortingly as he could. "I'll get you out of this. Just hang on a second."

He closed his eyes. _What can I do? If only the silly girl wasn't so stubborn about keeping me in handcuffs. I could easily just reach down and pull her up. Reach down … _

"I've got it," he declared. Crouching on the very edge of the hole, he dug his fingers into a crevice between the bricks and snaked one leg as far down into the pit as it could reach. "Grab ahold and pull yourself up. Can you do that?"

"I … I think so," Rebecca said shakily. She let go of the pipe with one hand and made a grab for his ankle. She missed, and slid further down.

"Come on," Billy coaxed, willing her not to fall. "Just a little farther, Rebecca. You can make it."

She lunged upwards again, and this time her hand caught his pants leg. Using her feet to push herself upwards, she clung to him, wrapping both arms around his calf and pressing her face into his knee.

"Keep climbing, sweetheart," Billy said, his mind going to all the implications of that statement without his permission. He winced inwardly, disgusted with himself. _Keep your mind out of the gutter, jackass. This is serious. _

Rebecca had progressed a lot; her arms were around his waist now, both feet planted firmly against the wall. Her head and shoulders were out of the hole. Billy felt that she had a good enough grip that he could make his move without risking her slipping back down. Exerting all his strength, he levered himself away from the hole, lifting his leg out and scooting backwards. Rebecca was pulled along, and lay across his leg for a moment, recovering. Then she sat up, an adorable blush tinting her cheeks.

"Thanks," she said. "I would have died without you."

'Sorry I didn't get here faster," Billy said. "I had to kick a wall down." She narrowed her eyes and he winced, realizing that it sounded like he was bragging. "I mean, it was kind of old and crumbly. It practically fell down as soon as I looked at it." _Great, now I'm making myself out to have superpowers. Why can't I just be quiet for a while?_

To his relief, Rebecca didn't comment further on his exploits. Instead, she stood up and retrieved her shotgun, slinging it over her shoulder with a businesslike look in her eye.

"We've got to retrieve the other weapons," she said. "And then, maybe we should continue." A mischievous look entered her eye. "If we run into any more dead-ends, I'll just let you handle them."

_I probably shouldn't have teased him about the wall thing, _Rebecca thought as she saw the gap that Billy's foot had created in the previously solid brick. _I just didn't think he was really serious. I should be grateful that he was so dedicated to rescuing me. _

She blushed again at the memory of clinging to his waist as he'd pulled her up. Even thought she was glad to be out of the hole, it still felt wrong, as if she'd had too much contact with his body. _I guess that's my own fault for not taking off his handcuffs. But it's not like I can do it now. I would seem weak if I can't even stick by my decision. _

_Even if it's a bad decision? _The side of her overly concerned with justice felt that it had to speak up. _Isn't it actually more weak to stick by a bad decision when you have the power to change it and make it right? Face it, girl: Billy Coen does not act like a man who killed 23 people in cold blood. I bet you anything that there's more to the story than the file said. _

Rebecca pushed her rebellious thoughts aside. _I can decide what to do about this later. For now, we need to get out of this place. _

She picked up the grenade launcher and slung it over her shoulder, then tucked her handgun back into its holster. "Okay. Where to now?"

"There was another door right across from the room you were in," Billy said. "We could give it a try."

The new door led to a room which contained six animal statues, standing in a circle, each with an unlit torch in front of it. Rebecca groaned.

"Great, more puzzles. Do you think if we get this one wrong, we'll release a bunch of animals that will eat us alive?"

Billy grinned briefly. "Maybe. I wouldn't want to have to face that deer. The bear doesn't scare me that much, though."

Rebecca smiled back. One thing she had learned about Billy was that she could always count on him to brighten her up with his unique sense of humor.

She noticed a small piece of paper lying next to one of the statues and picked it up, reading aloud: _the horned beast stands proudly in the forest, the cunning hunter winds the horn of death, the chariot of man outruns even the wind, the king of the earth can be bested by no man, the legless liar uses poison as his best weapon, and the symbol of freedom can never be poisoned against his own. _

"Wow," said Billy. "What a mouthful. What's it talking about?"

Rebecca read the riddle several more times, an answer beginning to form in her mind. As Billy watched, curious, she pulled out his lighter and began walking around, lighting all the statues in a particular order.

"The words are referring to the animals displayed here," she explained as she worked. "The horned beast, of course, is the deer. Wolves are generally known for being smart and wily, so that would be the cunning hunter. The 'chariot of man' is hard, but I finally figured out that it's meant to be the creature that has carried humans for ages: namely, the horse. The bear is the king of the earth. The snake is the only one here with no legs, plus snakes are generally associated with liars. Now the eagle is the only one left, but it's also the symbol of freedom for America."

"Smart," Billy said, "but what's the point?"

"It's a food chain," Rebecca replied. "The wolf kills the deer, the horse escapes from the wolf, the bear eats the horse, the snake bites the bear, and the eagle catches the snake. Pretty much, I have to light the torches in the correct order. There." She finished and tucked the lighter back into her pocket.

For a moment, the six torches flickered in the darkness. Then, they were extinguished abruptly in a gust of wind that swirled from a new passage that had opened up in the wall. Billy followed after Rebecca as she headed for it.

Just beyond the new doorway was a set of stairs that led downwards. Rebecca walked down them, shotgun held ready in case anything jumped out at her. At the bottom of the stairs, the corridor turned right, and then left again, before ending in another door. Rebecca pushed it open.

They were standing in what had once been someone's bedroom, if you could call it that. Rebecca pitied the person who had been forced to live down here in the damp, dark, gloomy cell. There was a bed, a desk, and a fireplace filled with wet ashes. Something there caught her eye, and she pulled out a stone tablet about the size of Billy's hand and brushed it off. A single word - UNITY - was written across the top in capital letters. They searched the entire room, but couldn't find anything else of use.

"Oh well," Rebecca sighed, shoving the Unity tablet into her med kit, which was starting to look rather full. "Let's head back. There's one more door in the hallway that we haven't tried yet."

Billy stifled a yawn, his eyes betraying the weariness that he felt. "Right behind you, sweetheart."

As Rebecca headed back out into the corridor, she couldn't help but wonder how much longer they would be stuck in this awful place. So far, no way of exiting had been apparent. The train tunnel, which they might have been able to use, had been completely blocked by the wreck.

The final door took them into a room that Rebecca suspected was supposed to be some sort of armory. Spare parts for various weapons lay all around, along with abundant supplied of handgun and shotgun ammo, and even a few grenade rounds. Rebecca couldn't help but smile at the excited expression on Billy's face as he examined the arsenal.

"I can't carry any more," she reminded him as he turned to her with a pleading look on his face.

"Then at least grab this magnum ammo for me," he said. "Just in case we run into a .45 later on, or something."

Rebecca thought that was unlikely, but she humored him. Then, glancing around the room, she noticed that there was glass paneling along one wall, as well as a control stick. She glanced out, and saw that there was more to the room that she had originally thought. The extra section looked like some sort of maze, with gates blocked the path periodically.

"Billy, I'm going to go down there and see if there's anything useful," she said. "I want you to stay up here and move this lever, okay? I'll fix your handcuffs so you won't have as much problem."

"Let me come with you," he begged. "You don't know what's waiting down there."

Rebecca felt a shiver go down her spine at the ominous words. "Don't be silly," she said. "I've got the shotgun. I can deal with anything I might meet."

The convict clearly didn't believe her. "If that was true, then I wouldn't have had to come drag you out of that hole not ten minutes ago. Please … I don't ask for much, Rebecca, but please let me come with you."

"Someone needs to stay up here and maneuver the gates," she pointed out.

"Then I'll go down there and take a look around, and you can stay behind."

She shook her head. "No-"

"Look, if this about the handcuffs-"

"It's not, Billy." Rebecca paused, unsure of how to convince him to listen to her. "Look," she said finally, "I saw a space down there that would be too small for you to climb through. I'm the one that has to go. I promise I won't take any risks, okay?"

He looked down at the floor, scowling. "You'd better not."

"I won't," she said. She was about to turn and head down the stairs when she felt a pair of warm lips press against her temple. Shocked, she looked up to see Billy gazing down at her, his familiar shameless grin back on his face. "For luck," he said.

She turned away quickly before he could do anything else and practically ran down the stairs and into the maze. Her heart was thudding unreasonably. _Nothing happened, _she reminded herself, _he's not serious about it. He's just being a flirt, as usual. _

But she could not seem to shake from her mind the feeling of his lips pressed against her skin. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss him for real, but she banished the idea as soon as it arrived.

_Don't be an idiot, Rebecca Chambers. You are not permitted to think about such things. What is wrong with you? You've known him for … what, five hours now? _

_I wish he hadn't done that, _she thought miserably. _Now I can't concentrate. _

The gate in front of her slid down, and she looked up to see Billy watching her. He mouthed something that looked like 'be careful'. She gave him a thumbs up in reply and headed further into the maze.

At last, she reached the little area that she'd seen from the window above. Sure enough, there was a key waiting here, this time with a blue tag. Rebecca took it, but before she could leave the maze, a gate slammed down over the doorway, and she heard a deep roar echoing around the room. This was closely followed by a second.

She heard Billy call her name and looked up to see him leave the control room and run down the stairs. "No!" she screamed. "Don't come down here!" But she had no time to worry about him, because standing in front of her were two creatures, half-human, half-lizard, and as tall as a man. They bared their long fangs as her and hissed in unison as they struck. Rebecca fired the shotgun, blowing one of them back against the wall, but the other took a massive swipe and caught her in the midsection, knocking the wind out of her. She staggered, letting out a pained gasp, and dropped the shotgun. It would take too long to reload. Instead, she pulled out her handgun, firing all the round she had into the creature's head. Then she reloaded and focused her fire on the other, which had been stunned by the shotgun blast. With a shriek, it toppled forward and lay still.

Exhausted, Rebecca sat down against the wall and closed her eyes. Dimly, she was aware of the fact that the door to escape had opened again. But somehow, she felt too tired to move. Her ribs aches where the creature had struck her, and her shoulder throbbed painfully from the shotgun's recoil.

"Rebecca! God, no!" a horrified voice exclaimed. She opened her eyes to see Billy kneeling beside her, panic written all over his face.

"I'm okay," she wheezed. "My tac vest stopped most of the blow."

He sat back a little, breathing out a deep sigh. "You are never going anywhere without me again," he threatened. "Jesus … I thought you were dead for sure."

Rebecca glanced down at the two bizarre creature she had killed. Blood leaked from their open mouths and pooled on the floor, seeping into cracks in the stone. "I'm surprised I'm still alive," she admitted. "Those things are fierce."

Billy shook his head in disbelief. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here. I think we've done all we can. Besides, it's much safer back up in the mansion."

_What's happened to us, _Rebecca wondered as they trekked back through the hallway together, _that we consider a house infested with zombies to be safe? _She shot a glance at Billy, realized just how much she had changed since she met him.

Somewhere along the way, she had stopped depending on him because she had to, and started depending on him because she knew, deep in her heart, that he could be trusted.


	10. Piano Lessons

Chapter Ten:

Piano Lessons

**Wow, chapter ten already ... I can hardly believe it. This is now officially my longest story. And it's not nearly over yet! Billy and Rebecca have a lot more trial to face before they can call themselves free. Once again, thanks to everyone who has reviewed. I appreciate it SO much! I know you all are impatient for Billy to shed his cuffs and start getting a piece of the action, but be patient. I have a special plan for that moment ... I promise, it'll be worth the wait. As per requests, I'm going to start trying to put a bit more of Billy's perspective into the story. Even so, it's not to hard to figure out what he's thinking most of the time, right? ;) Anyway, here goes!**

"That key you found down in the lizard maze … what does it open?"

"Huh?" Rebecca looked up. She had been hunched over the typewriter, meticulously writing another report. Her last one had been very brief, stating only that they had crashed the train, and that she had captured ex-Marine Lieutenant Billy Coen. However, so much had changed since then …

Rebecca bit her lip nervously. The undeniable fact was that Billy had saved her life so many times that she owed it to him to acknowledge that fact somehow. In the end, she just added a postscript to the report, which detailed all the answers to the puzzles within the mansion.

_It should be noted, _she typed, _that Billy Coen has acted in a very honorable and selfless manner, and has saved my life on multiple occasions. Without him, I wouldn't even be writing this report. _

"Well?" the subject of her report prompted. "What about the key?"

"The key?" She blinked at him, forcing her tired mind to focus. "Oh right, the key. It must open something, maybe a door we haven't been through yet. Let's take a look at the map."

"What about the music room?" Billy suggested. "It's through a door in the big room where we fought the centipede, and I know that we haven't looked around there much."

"Back upstairs, then," Rebecca sighed. Her legs ached as she stood up, and she swayed slightly. Billy moved closer in case he had to support her.

"You look tired," he said. "We should rest for a while. I can keep watch, if you want to take a nap."

She shook her head. "I'm so wired I don't think I could sleep. Plus, you might peek at me while I'm unconscious or something."

Billy's face was a portrait of innocent shock. "Me?" he asked. "I'm hurt that you don't trust me more. I would never do that."

Rebecca smiled deviously; she had finally hit on a way to get him back for his surprise kiss in the armory. "So you admit that you don't find me attractive?"

Billy looked taken aback. "I didn't say that. I'm just too much of a gentlemen to look at a lady without her permission."

Rebecca opened her mouth and stopped in horror, realizing that she had been about to say, _what if you had my permission? _She decided to break off the conversation before it got too weird. She pushed past him and headed up the stairs to the second floor.

"Come on, let's check the music room."

Over the past five hours, Billy had grown accustomed to looking at Rebecca's back. Not that he minded - hell, if he was in the lead, he wouldn't be able to see anything. Now, he was more grateful than usual as he studied her, trying to figure out from her posture if he had said something wrong.

He had thought that the girl was easy to read, but right now, she was confusing him greatly. She would say or do something that seemed downright flirtatious, and then moments later, become very cold and removed. It was almost, Billy thought, like she was punishing herself for wanting to be friends with him.

_I don't blame you, little girl, _Billy thought ruefully. _I probably would have been doing you a kindness to let you be and not talk so damn much. That's always been the source of my problems in life … I just don't know when to keep my mouth shut._

Still, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret and worry as he felt the easy comradery that had developed between them cracking under the strain of something that he didn't understand.

The door of the music room was locked, but the blue-tagged key fixed that. Inside, the room was fairly bare, with a few desks and a large piano that dominated most of one corner. Rebecca sat down on the bench and glanced at the worn keys, rubbing her fingers over them.

"Do you play?" Billy asked.

She nodded, then reconsidered and shook her head. "Um, a little bit. My mom used to play beautifully, and we always had a piano in our house when I was growing up. She would let me tinker around on it. I can play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star."

Billy smiled.

"Anyway," Rebecca continued, gesturing at the complicated piece that had been left up on the piano's music shelf, "this might be a little to hard for me. I'll try it, though."

Billy's smile only got wider as she timidly put her hands on the keys, playing in a halting manner while squinting at the tiny notes. By the time she gave up and smacked her hands on the keys in frustration, his grin went from one ear to the other.

"Okay," he said, bending over to shoulder to examine the music sheet. "I can't bear to watch you struggle any longer, sweetheart. The first chord is C major with your right hand, and a low G minor with your left. No, the pinky goes on that key. There you go."

Tentatively, half-expecting to hear some horrible cacophony from the piano, Rebecca positioned her fingers as he'd told her and pressed down. A beautiful melody filled the room, echoing hauntingly around the walls.

"That's good," said Billy. "Now move your hand down a little, and hit those four notes in a row as you're going up."

Slowly, under his careful instruction, she worked her way through the difficult piece. She was concentrating so hard that she didn't even notice how Billy's voice became softer, and the way he drew as close as he could without compromising his balance.

As the last note rang through the air, and Rebecca released the keys and sat back in triumph, a section of the wooden panel slid up into the wall, revealing a little alcove. Jumping up from her seat, Rebecca ran over to investigate. Inside, embedded on the back wall, was another tablet, this time reading OBEDIENCE. She dug her fingernails under one corner of the tablet and carefully levered it out.

Seconds later, her heart jumped into her throat as she heard the unmistakable sound of stone sliding against wood. Turning around, she saw that the panel was closing again, trying to trap her inside the little alcove.

Before she could make a move, however, Billy was there. Bracing his shoulder under the panel to halt its progress, he gritted his teeth.

"Go!" he grunted.

Rebecca needed no further urging. Gripping the tablet tightly, she ducked under the door and scampered into the middle of the room. As soon as she was clear, Billy threw himself backwards, and the door slammed shut.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," Rebecca said quietly. "I could have made it out by myself."

Billy winked at her. "I know, sweetheart. But a real gentleman always holds the door for a lady."

She waved the tablet at him before tucking it into her med kit. "Scoundrel. I guess I should thank you, though."

"Think nothing of it," he replied. "Now, if I remember correctly, there's a door in the main hall that's been unlocked at well. Maybe we should give that one a try. I have a feeling that we're almost clear of this place."

"I sure hope so," Rebecca replied, stifling a shudder as she thought of all they had been through since they crashed the train. _I'm fine just as long as we don't run into any more of those awful earwigs …_

The door in the main hall was made of heavy steel; Rebecca and Billy had to work in unison to push it open. At first Rebecca felt elated to realize that they were standing outside. Then her fragile hopes plummeted when she saw that the only way to escape was by leaping down a sheer drop into the darkness below.

A high-pitched caw hailed the arrival of more crow zombies, but they kept their distance after Rebecca fired a few warning shots in the air. They milled about, shrieking their heads off and glaring at the two intruders with their beady red eyes.

Rebecca's attention was drawn away from the crows by Billy, who was acting strangely. He was standing in a corner of the courtyard, bouncing up and down with his eyes fixed on something high up.

"What's the matter?" she called.

"I think I see something on top of that broken-off pillar over there," he said. "I wouldn't be able to reach it, though, even if I wasn't wearing handcuffs. Maybe if you were to stand on my shoulders …"

"It's worth a try," Rebecca said. Billy knelt down on one knee, and she climbed up until she was perched with one foot on either of his shoulders. She gripped her handgun with one hand - in case the crows got rowdy - and braced herself against the pillar with the other as Billy slowly raised himself up to standing.

Rebecca stretched her left hand above her head. She could almost reach the top of the pillar … one more inch. She stood on her tiptoes and felt her fingertips brush against something that shifted. She swept her hand sideways to knock the object off onto the group.

At that moment, one of the braver crows decided to take a dive. Rebecca flinched, and Billy staggered, trying to keep his balance. He managed to stay upright by leaning his shoulder against the pillar, but Rebecca couldn't keep her footing and slid down until she was sitting astride his broad shoulders, her legs clamped around his head. Raising her pistol, she fired two rounds and shot the crow out of the air.

"Don't move!" Billy said suddenly. She froze, looking around to see what the danger was, but the courtyard looked clear. The crows had fled back to their nests upon the death of their comrade, and Rebecca couldn't see any new menace that she should be worried about.

"What's wrong?" she asked Billy.

He turned his head slightly to grin at her, his cheek scraping against the inside of her leg. Rebecca suddenly found herself _very _glad that she wasn't the sort of girl that liked wearing short skirts.

"I'm kind of liking this position," Billy said. "Aren't you?"

She smacked him on top of the head as hard as she could with her free hand. "Let me down this instant, Billy Coen! You … you _pervert_!"

"Easy, sweetheart," he said, the infuriating grin still plastered on his face as he knelt carefully back down again. She leapt off of his shoulders as if he was made of flaming coals and hurried to investigate the object that she'd knocked from the top of the pillar.

"I _knew _he'd find some way to take advantage of me," she muttered, more embarrassed than angry. In the background, Billy just laughed.

Bending over, the S.T.A.R.S. medic picked up the object. It was the DISCIPLINE tablet. She showed it to Billy, who raised his eyebrows.

"What do they do with this … beat people over the head with it when they don't listen?"

Rebecca couldn't hold back a smile. She decided to temporarily forgive him for his affront. "Well, we have three tablets now. I guess we should try to find out where they go."

"Up there, maybe?" the convict suggested, pointing at something behind her back. Rebecca turned around and gasped in surprise. A set of stairs on the north end of the courtyard led up to a huge dome that was not accessible from the rest of the mansion.

"Let's go check it out," she said, readying her pistol and reloading her shotgun just in case of trouble. She trotted up the stairs and pushed open the steel door to the dome.

It was an odd structure, apparently built for observing the stars. A metal walkway ran around the edge, with steps leading down to a platform, upon which rested a huge telescope trained at an opening in the top of the dome. On the other side was a door, which refused to open, even when Billy exerted all his strength.

"Maybe something down here will help," Rebecca suggested, heading down to the center platform. She couldn't resist taking a peek through the telescope's lens. "Wow! I can see the moon really clearly."

"There are three holes here," Billy said, examining the control panel for the telescope. "They look like they're about the right size for those tablets."

"Uh huh," Rebecca agreed, pulling them out. "What was the company motto again? Oh yeah … 'discipline breeds obedience, obedience breeds unity, unity breeds power … power is life'." As she spoke, she placed the tablets into the slots in the proper order. The door across from them creaked open.

Billy gave her a strange look. "Where did you get that?"

She blushed. "It was written on a poster in the computer room, and again at the bottom of Dr. Marcus' portraits. It seems to be important to these people." She glanced at the now open door that she hoped would lead to their freedom from this nightmarish place. In a sudden burst of elation, she grabbed Billy's arm and started dragging him towards the exit.

"Come on!" she exclaimed. "Let's go!"

"Whoa, slow down, genius," he laughed. "Let's not go rushing headfirst into the unknown. We don't know what might be waiting for us outside that door."

"If it's anything like the other things we've encountered, it'll be the most god-awful creature imaginable," Rebecca said.

"If it's anything like the others, we'll kick its ass," Billy replied. "Face it, sweetheart. When there's something you and I want to accomplish, neither God nor the devil can stand in our way."

Rebecca paused for a second and gave him a thumbs up. Then, keeping a tight hold on her pistol, she stepped through the open doorway with Billy close behind.

**/AN/ By the way, just as a note ... Billy's comment about what to do with the discipline tablet comes from a joke I had with my husband while playing through this part. When I saw that he'd found a discipline tablet, I said that maybe they used it to discipline their employees when they didn't listen ... just in case anyone wanted to know :D**


	11. Dracula

Chapter Eleven:

Dracula

**Poor Billy ... sorry about the somewhat darker content of this chapter. Believe it or not, I actually started swearing at the game when it took Billy away. Don't worry, though ... Rebecca will get him back. Thanks for reading, and I hope you all enjoy it!**

If she had been asked, Rebecca would have openly admitted that the last thing she expected to see upon exiting Dr. Marcus' mansion was a church. Yet that's what the large building in front of her unmistakably was.

The large, oaken double doors in front were locked, and a metal gate barred the way when Rebecca tried to go around back. She shook her head in resignation.

"Okay, let's go find the key."

"Screw that," Billy exclaimed suddenly. "We don't have time for this shit." He walked over to one of the ornate stained glass windows beside the door and put his foot through it, then ducked through the opening. Rebecca followed him, feeling a little shocked.

Inside, the building appeared to be regular, with dusty pews and an altar adorned with candles and a statue of Jesus being crucified. Still, something about it seemed almost menacing. Rebecca couldn't really put her finger on it, but to her, it felt more like sacrilege than a holy place.

She tripped on something as she was heading into a side room and let out a gasp, jerking backwards. The body of a priest lay face down on the floor, his robes stained with blood. A set of large bite marks were plain on his neck. Rebecca eyed him cautiously in case he returned as a zombie, but he showed no signs of moving.

Billy stepped over the body and headed into the side room. He returned a moment later. "Not much in there," he reported. Rebecca tried to look for herself, but he blocked her with his much larger form.

"It's not a pretty sight," he said quietly. "Trust me, Rebecca." He pulled the door shut behind him, and Rebecca couldn't help but wonder what the room contained that was so awful Billy wouldn't want her to see it. But he was looking at her in such a way that she decided to accept his judgment.

She was just turning back to see if there was anything else to be done in the church when a tortured scream rang through the air. Rebecca's head jerked up, and she stared in horror at the church's roof, which she now realized had been torn almost completely off. A huge, dark shape hovered there, gauzy wings framed against the pale moon.

"Christ!" Billy shouted. "It's fucking Dracula!"

The mutated bat swooped down, and Rebecca and Billy ducked down behind a pew. The medic covered her ears as the creature let out another terrible screech. It backed air, thrashing its feet around and scattering pews in all directions.

With a jolt, Rebecca realized that it was not acting randomly. The benches protecting her were gone, and Billy had been thrown into a corner of the room. He jumped up and ran back towards her, but it was too late. The bat's claws clenched on her shoulder, jerking her into the air. She cried out, struggling, but the beast was too strong for her. Her shotgun dangled uselessly from its strap, and in her awkward position, Rebecca could not pull it up.

She heard Billy shouting her name, and twisted her head around so that she could look down at him. His wide eyes reflected his panic at the situation, and his frustration at being unable to help her.

Rebecca felt something sharp poke her leg and remembered the butcher knife that she had put on her belt. An idea began to form in her mind. As the bat lifted her up through the gaping hole in the roof, she dropped the shotgun and gave Billy a quick thumbs up to let him know that she was okay. Then, grabbing the handle of the knife, she pulled it free and slashed the blade across the bat's leg, cutting the thick tendon.

It dropped her immediately, and she fell back down towards the church floor, twenty feet below. She barely managed to snag the broken edge of the roof with one hand, and hung there, her legs swinging over the gap. She glanced upwards quickly and saw the bat preparing for another dive, blood dripping down its leg. She didn't have much time.

Bringing her right hand up, she gripped her knife in her teeth and caught onto the edge of the roof. She closed her eyes, summoning the strength that she knew her muscles possessed. _I did this in combat training, _she reminded herself. _It wasn't so hard. If I could do it then, when my life wasn't in danger, then I can certainly do it now. _

The muscles in her arms burned as she hauled herself upwards, using her momentum to swing one leg over the edge and roll to safety as the bat dived again. At the last moment, she pulled out her grenade launcher and fired two rounds into the bats oncoming form. It crashed onto the roof, narrowly avoiding her, and writhed for a moment before falling still. A singed smell arose from the corpse, making Rebecca feel nauseous.

She thought of Billy down below, and how worried he must be. Crawling to the edge, she looked down into the ruined church. The convict was looking around anxiously, and when he saw her, his shoulders relaxed slightly.

"Are you okay?" he yelled.

"Yeah," Rebecca called. "I'm fine. Just a little scraped up. Wait right there, okay? I'm going to look for another way down."

He nodded, sitting down on an overturned pew, and she scooted backwards and stood up, glancing around what was left of the roof. She could see the rungs of a ladder protruding on the north end, and she headed over to it, keeping low in case there were any more demon bats around.

The ladder took her down to a secluded garden area behind the church. There were several medicinal herbs growing there that Rebecca recognized from her training. She picked them and stored them in her chemical mixing kit for later use.

There was a switch on the wall to send power to an elevator, and she pressed it. Then, unlocking the metal gate that had gotten in their way before, she headed around the front of the church to collect Billy.

"Becky the Vampire Slayer, huh?" he teased when she opened the door. "That'll be a story to tell the rest of your team."

His words made her realize that she had been so concentrated on her own troubles that she had temporarily forgotten about the rest of Bravo Team. _Richard, Forest, Enrico, Edward, Kenneth … I really hope you guys are okay. _

Her expression must have tipped Billy off, because his grin faded, to be replaced with grim sympathy. "I'm sorry."

Rebecca gulped. "Bravo team was sent in to investigate some weird murders that had been reported, but our helicopter went down due to engine trouble. After we crashed, we discovered the M.P. van that had been transporting you and split up to search the area. I had just entered the train when it started moving, so I got stuck. And … well, you know the rest."

He nodded. "Don't worry. You've been surviving fine, so I'm sure they're all okay."

Rebecca tried hard to convince herself that Billy was right, and there was no reason for her to be worried. _I have to concentrate on the present if we're going to get out of here okay. _

"Let's get going," she said, picking up her shotgun, which was still lying where she had dropped it on the floor. "I found an elevator."

"Okay," he replied, standing up. "Hey, you know something?"

She turned around. "What?"

"I'm glad you were the one who found me on the train."

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Me too, Billy."

The elevator took them down to a subterranean level deep underneath the church. The air was cold down there, and Rebecca shivered, wondering how Billy could stand walking around in a cut-off. She was wearing a t-shirt and tac vest, and there were goose pimples on her arms.

The double doors opened onto a long, dark hallway. At the end was a hunched shape that sent chills up Rebecca's spine when she spotted it. It spun around to face them, and she saw that it was another of the leech zombies.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed. "In this narrow hallway, we're not going to be able to run by it. We'll have to fight."

"How many grenade rounds do you have left?" Billy asked.

She checked quickly as the creature advanced down the hallway towards them. "Just one."

"Use it."

Hefting the grenade launcher, she fired the last round right into the creature's midsection. Its fluid body pulsed once, twice, and then exploded, sending burnt leeches flying everywhere. Rebecca flicked one off of her leg with a quiver of disgust.

Turning to look at Billy, she saw that he was much worse off, having been closer to the creature than she was. There was leech goo splattered all over one arm and across his face. He eyed it glumly.

"Oh, man," Rebecca said. "Those things are disgusting!" Pulling a wad of extra bandages from her med kit, she wet them down with the last of their water and started scrubbing the slime off of Billy's arm. Once she was finished, she stood on her tiptoes so she could reach his face, maneuvering carefully around his eyes and mouth. Then she threw the soiled bandages away and stood back, proud of her work.

"Thanks," Billy said.

Rebecca treated him to a smile. "No problem."

Ahead of them, the hallway split in two. Rebecca turned right, and found herself in a little cubby-hole. There was a glass jar containing several vials on a table against the wall. All of the vials except one were empty, and that one contained a toy model of a little leech. She tried to pry the lid off, but it was sealed with a powerful solvent.

"I can make a solution that will dissolve this," Rebecca said, tucking the vial into her med kit. "I just need the right chemicals and a little bit of time."

It seemed that luck was on their side, as the door at the end of the hallway led to a sort of laboratory. Two zombies dressed in tattered lab coats were standing on the other side of a table, but Rebecca dispatched them quickly with two shots from her pistol. She was a little shocked to discover that the sight of the rotting, deformed flesh didn't disturb her the way it had when she had first encountered the creatures on the train.

"What a waste of intelligence," Billy said as he stepped over the bodies. Rebecca guessed that he was referring to the virus in general, as well as the lost minds of the scientists. Privately, she agreed with him.

She found the chemicals that she needed inside the laboratory's well-stocked cabinets. Mixing them together with the help of her kit, she poured the solution over the vial's cap, holding her breath as a nasty, burning-plastic smell filled the air. The vial lid popped off, and a hard metal leech charm fell out into Rebecca's hand. She dangled it in front of Billy's nose.

"There we go. That's what science can do for you."

"Amazing," said Billy.

There was nothing of further use in the room, so they headed for the only door, which was painted with a life-size portrait of Dr. Marcus. In place of a doorknob was a strangely shaped hole.

"The key that unlocks this must look bizarre," Billy said, bending over to peer into it. "It has ridges on the edges, and is pretty thick, but it tapers down to an almost-point."

The description sparked an idea in Rebecca's mind. "Dr. Marcus seemed to be very fond of leeches, didn't he?" she murmured as she pulled out the token. It fit cleanly into the hole in the door, which then swung inwards when Billy gave it a shove.

Rebecca gasped in amazement, running forward a few feet into the new room. It was huge, with a high ceiling, and a railing on one side of it. Directly in front of them was a cable car.

"I think this is our ticket out of here!" she exclaimed, turning to Billy. The convict also had an expression of excitement on his face, though it was tempered with wariness.

Rebecca tried the doors of the car, but they were shut tight and refused to open. She glanced around and saw a ladder leading up to a control room.

"I'll climb up there and start this thing," she called, pointing to it. Billy gave her a nod, and she practically bounded up the rungs of the ladder, her joy at finally finding a way to escape lending her energy. She poked her head up through the hole to the control room, only to be met with a fearsome shriek, and a visage of an open mouth with long fangs.

The creature lunged at her and she gasped, releasing her hold on the ladder. She slid awkwardly down to the ground, landing hard and sending a jolt of pain through her left ankle. Billy ran to her side, but before he could speak, the thing that had attacked her leaped down from the control room and crouched in front of them, snarling.

It was - or rather, once had been - a monkey, but it was almost unrecognizable. Its white fur was hanging in sheets from its body, and the muscles showed through underneath. A bulbous tumor had formed on its back. Seeing it in front of her, Rebecca knew without a doubt that it was the same creature that had nearly caused her death in the basement of the mansion.

The monkey opened its jaws in an ear-splitting howl and launched itself straight towards her. She tried to move away, but her twisted ankle would not support her weight, and she fell back with a little gasp of pain and fright.

Right before the beast's fangs snapped across her face, Billy lunged forward, taking the blow for her. Rebecca saw him wince at the monkey's teeth fastened in his shoulder, and its momentum sent him sprawling backwards, dangerously close to the railing.

"Billy!" she cried, fumbling for her handgun. It was not in the holster where it was supposed to be. She glanced around frantically, and spotted it lying several feet away. It must have been fallen out when she hit the ground. She began crawling towards it as quickly as she could. Grabbing it up, she spun around and took aim at the monkey's head.

But a second before she fired, the enraged primate ripped itself free of Billy's shoulder and darted backwards, quicker than her eyes could follow. Then it charged again, throwing itself towards Billy's unprotected face. Rebecca fired at it and missed.

Billy jerked backwards just in time to avoid being blinded by the long fangs. His back struck the railing, and the rusty structure creaked loudly before giving way, sending both man and monkey hurtling downwards.

Rebecca screamed, running for the edge despite the pain shooting up her leg. She dropped to the floor and stared desperately down into the darkness below.

"Billy!" she cried. "Are you okay? Billy, please answer me!"

But there was no sound from the abyss, save for a very faint splash. Rebecca hunched over on the cold floor and sobbed miserably.

_Oh, God, _she thought, _if he's dead … if Billy's dead, it's my fault. I'm the one who refused to remove the stupid handcuffs, even though I knew he could be trusted. And now he's gone, and I've got no one to blame but myself._


	12. Loneliness

Chapter Twelve:

Loneliness

For a long time after Billy went over the edge, Rebecca could not move. She felt paralyzed, not only by the pain wracking her body, but also by her guilt. If she hadn't been so stubborn, so _stupid, _Billy would still be with her.

Eventually, however, she realized that she would have to get off the platform and into the safety of the cable car. The monkey might return at any moment. Working quickly, she administered a light dose of anesthetic to dull the pain in her ankle and make walking bearable. Then she wrapped the sprained joint tightly and limped over to the ladder that led up to the control room. Climbing it was difficult and painful, but at last she got to the top and activated the switch that would bring power to the cable car.

Numbly, she climbed back down and entered the car. There was a dead man inside, with a .45 clenched in one stiff hand. Rebecca froze, staring down at it as Billy's voice echoed through her head.

"_At least grab this magnum ammo for me. Just in case we run into a .45 later, or something." _

As she reached down to take the weapon, the man's eyes suddenly snapped open, fixing her with a glassy stare. She jerked back in surprise as he rose to his feet, his arms stretched out in front of him, and shuffled towards her with a bone-chilling moan.

Pulling out her handgun, she shot him in the forehead. The bullet drilled a neat hole through his skull and he collapsed face down on the floor. Rebecca picked up the .45, examining it. It was nearly fully loaded; only one shot had been fired.

She didn't really have a place to carry it, but she decided to keep in on her anyway, if just because it reminded her of Billy. She pulled the lever that would send the cable car off to its destination, and sat down on one of the benches.

It was not a long ride - perhaps ten minutes or so. But by the time car came to a stop and the doors slid open, Rebecca had already decided that the best thing she could do was continue trying to escape. She was sure that that was what Billy would have wanted her to do.

She stepped out through the doors and onto a long catwalk. Below her, in the darkness, was what sounded like a river. She headed up a set of stairs at the end of the walkway and entered what appeared to be some sort of storage room, with various boxes piled all around. None of them looked useful, and Rebecca was more interested in the lift in the north corner. She got onto it and pressed the button to take her down.

The room at the bottom had a row of screens all along one wall, but only one of them was lit up. The quality of the image it displayed was poor, but Rebecca could make out a vaguely human shape, but much larger than normal, suspended in liquid. She frowned, grabbed a key that was sitting on the table, and headed for the door on the other side of the room. On the other side was a small room with a control panel, but the lights were all off, and none of the buttons responded to Rebecca's fingers.

She searched around until she found a slot for a key. She inserted the one that she'd found in the previous room, and turned it. The control panel came to life, and a bland, female voice instructed, "To call for the train, press the large red button on the left side. I repeat, to call for the train, press the large red-"

Rebecca pushed the button, and was rewarded by the voice announcing that the train had been called. She left the small room through a second door and started heading for an elevator on the other side of the large area she was in. She was almost there when the elevator doors opened, and a large shape emerged.

Rebecca froze. It was the same thing that she'd seen floating in liquid on the monitor. It must have broken free, and was now roaming unchecked around the facility. Her heart twisted when she realized that it had once been human. Now, however, it was warped and mutated beyond recognition. One arm was oversized and armed with deadly claws, and its whole body was covered with painful protuberances. Its tortured eyes glared from within its swollen face.

"Oh my God," she whispered as the creature turned to look at her. It swung its massive arm at her head, and she just barely ducked in time. It claws ripped a large chunk out of the wall behind her.

Firmly gripping the .45, Rebecca fired all the rounds into the creature's body. It jerked slightly with every blow, but seemed otherwise unaffected. It advanced on her, its arm outstretched.

Sudden terror filled Rebecca at the realization that the next few moments could be her last. She was about to drop the empty magnum and try her shotgun when she noticed that the elevator doors were still open. The creature swung its arm down at her head, and she dived between its legs. Jumping up, she limped over to the elevator and pressed the button to go down.

"Come on, come on, come _on_!" she screamed, backing into the furthest corner. After what seemed like an eternity, the elevator doors closed, blocking the thing's horrible face from her view.

_I've got to get out of here before it finds me again, _she thought. Wary now, she reloaded the magnum with the bullets that she has picked up back in the armory. Holding the powerful gun out in front of her, she stepped out of the elevator.

Now that she'd descended quite a bit, the river was much closer, and she could see the water. She could see something else as well, a limp form pressed against a rock in the center of the current.

"Oh!" she gasped. She knew that face … it had become very familiar to her over the past six hours.

Hardly daring to believe that it might be true, she ran to the railing. "Billy?" she called, softly. He didn't move, and she began to fear that he might be dead after all. "Billy!"

Then, so slightly that she might have imagined it, his leg twitched. She could tell that the wounds he had gotten from the monkey's fangs were bad; blood oozed from his shoulder and side. She stared at the dark water and wished desperately that she had brought along a coil of rope.

_I'll just have to swim over there and get him, _she thought. _I'm a pretty good swimmer, and I took a class on how to rescue people who are drowning. If he's not breathing, or if he's taken in too much water, I'll do CPR … _

She was just reaching for the railing to climb over it when a dark shape slithered rapidly through the water and came up under Billy's inert form, dislodging him from the rock he was stranded on. He was tossed to the side, and the current swept him downstream and through a hole in the wall.

"No!" Rebecca cried, biting her lip in frustration. _He's alive! I know he is! I've got to find him. _

She turned around to head back to the elevator, but the doors were already opening. She brought up the magnum, ready to fire if it was the creature again, but this time, all that emerged was a regular man, untouched by any bizarre mutations.

Rebecca stopped dead in surprise before running forward, waving her arms to get the man's attention.

"Enrico!" she called to her squad leader. "Enrico, it's me, Rebecca!"

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "You're alright! I was worried about you when we couldn't find any trace of you. Where have you been?"

"I've been finding my way through the mansion," she replied. "What about the others?"

Enrico closed his eyes for a moment. "You and I are the only ones left, kiddo. After we split up, they were attacked and killed by a pack of infected dogs. I was lucky to escape by climbing a tree and picking them off from above. There's been no sign of Coen anywhere. Have you seen him?"

It took Rebecca a moment to realize he was talking about Billy. She shook her head, grief for her teammates shining in her eyes. "No, sir. Not a trace."

He nodded decisively. "Okay. Let's get out of here. I got a message from Alpha team that we're supposed to rendezvous with them at a nearby location."

"I … I can't, sir," she said, thinking of Billy and her vow to find him now that she knew he was still alive. "There's something down here that I've got to do first."

Enrico's eyes narrowed, but to her relief, he didn't ask any questions. "Just be careful," he warned. "Here, take this so you can stay in contact with me."

She saluted him and took the little radio that he offered her. Then she headed into the elevator again, this time choosing this time to go up to the fourth level. When the doors opened, she stepped out and surveyed the area. A bridge spanned the chasm where the river flowed, and Rebecca crossed it, her boots thumping loudly on the thin metal.

On the other side of the bridge was a second elevator, but the power was off, and nothing happened when she pushed the button to call it. She spotted a door on the wall nearby, and opened it to find herself in another control room. There was a circuit box on the wall, and she opened the metal panel and flipped the switches to return power to the facility.

_Just hang on, Billy, _she thought. _I'm on my way to get you right now. _

She went back outside and rode the elevator down as far as it would go, ending up in another storage room like the one upstairs, but much larger. There was a forklift in the corner that she ignored. Instead, she took the staircase down. Water dripped off the walls, and the cold atmosphere made her think she must be underneath the river.

A loud moaning sound came from the other side of the door in front of her, making Rebecca jump. She threw open the door, and when she saw nearly made her heart stop. Billy lay on the ground, half-in and half-out of the water, and a zombie was bending over him, its jaws stretched wide in preparation for its meal.

"No you don't!" Rebecca growled, firing the magnum. The zombie was blown backwards, its head separating from its shoulders. The young medic ran forward and knelt at Billy's side, checking anxiously for a pulse. She let out a deep sigh when she found it, slow but steady.

"First thing's first," she muttered, rolling him onto his side. "I should have done this a long time ago."

The handcuffs clicked as she unlocked them and threw them as far away as she could. They landed in the water and sank immediately out of sight.

Rebecca removed her med kit and cradled Billy's head on her lap as she tended his wounds. His side was bleeding worst of all, from long scratches dug by the monkey's claws. She applied disinfectant, glad that he was unconscious - she knew from experience that the stuff burned like fire. Then she took out the first aid spray that she had been saving in case of emergencies. Popping off the cap, she emptied the small bottle onto his wound. The greenish liquid hissed slightly as it came in contact with his skin, and Rebecca watched, fascinated, as a scab began to form, the clotting enhanced by special chemicals in the spray.

Just to be on the safe side, she applied a bandage, and then gave the same treatment to the gash on his shoulder. Then, knowing there was nothing more she could do, she settled down for a long wait.


	13. Billy's Story

Chapter Thirteen:

Billy's Story

**Hi, everyone! I'm sorry if the last chapter was a little boring, but unfortunately, it had to be done. Hopefully this chapter will make up for it. Not much action happens until the end, but we finally get to hear the tragic tale of Billy Coen, in full. I hope you all enjoy it very much, and thanks for reviewing! I've said it before, but I'll say it again: your feedback is invaluable, and it really helps me be motivated to keep writing the story!**

_In Billy's dream, he was falling once more with the horrible weight of the white monkey pressing down on him, and its teeth burning like two coals embedded in his flesh. But rather than landing in water, he found himself lying in a field of red flowers, and the body on top of him belonged to Rebecca, and the flowers were the color of her lips. And in the dream, Billy knew that he could do whatever he wanted, so he took her in his arms and kissed her, and she ran a hand through his hair and smiled. But then her body grew lighter, and she began to float upwards towards the sun, and he was struggling to hang onto her. _

"_Don't leave me!" he begged. "Rebecca-"_

Rebecca was roused from her fitful slumber by Billy's moan. She opened her eyes and sat up, worried that perhaps she hadn't treated his wounds as well as she thought. He was tossing and turning, his head sliding across her lap as he twitched violently.

"Don't leave me," he mumbled, his voice hazy with sleep. "Rebecca!"

She laid a cooling hand on his hot forehead, wondering what sort of dreams he was having. "I'm right here, Billy."

He opened his eyes, staring vacantly at the ceiling for a few moments until he realized he was awake. His gaze drifted over to her and immediately sharpened.

"You're really here. I wasn't just imagining it."

She shook her head. "No. After you were knocked through the railing, I thought you were dead, but then I saw you in the water and I knew I had to find you. So I looked until I came across you down here." She decided not to say anything about her encounter with Enrico.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he said. "I owe you one." He sat up, and then stopped in surprise, his hands held out in front of his face. "What the hell happened to my handcuffs?"

"I took them off," Rebecca explained. "They're just getting in the way, and they're a threat to your safety as well. I don't think you would have fallen if you hadn't been in handcuffs. I … I don't think I could stand it if I was responsible for your death."

Billy was having a staring match with a pile of skeletons in one corner of the room. "Nice thought," he said finally, sounding a little choked, "but it doesn't much matter. Once we get out of here, execution is all I'll have to look forward to."

Rebecca had never heard him sound so defeated. Through all the confusing puzzles, all the horrible enemies they had fought and defeated together, he had always maintained an air of confidence that had never been shaken. Now, he was openly admitting that he wasn't even sure surviving would be worth it for him. It broke Rebecca's heart.

"Don't talk like that," she said, punching him lightly on the arm that wasn't injured. "It does matter. _You _matter to me, Billy. I didn't realize it until we were separated, but I've really come to depend on you."

The ghost of a smile returned to Billy's face, and he reached out and pinched her nose. "For what?" he asked. "Causing trouble?"

"No, for keeping my spirits up. I was really lonely without you." She smiled shyly.

Billy let out a surprised laugh, a bit of color coming back into his cheeks. "All right, sweetheart, have it your way. No point in sitting around moping." He started to get to his feet, but Rebecca held him back.

"Wait, Billy. There's something I want to know." She took a deep breath. "I don't think you committed those murders that you were charged with. I haven't known you for very long, but I can't believe someone as good as you could do that. I want to know the truth."

Billy's eyes were dark with the pain of knowledge as he looked at her. "Are you sure you should be asking that question, Rebecca? Suppose the answer isn't to your liking? What will you do then?"

She felt a cold chill inside her chest at the tone of his voice. "I don't care. I want to know anyway. If I'm wrong about you, then … then it doesn't matter. We'll get out of here anyway. But if I'm right, and you're innocent … damn it, Billy, I don't want to see you die for something you didn't do, especially if I'm the officer that brought you in."

Her answer seemed to be good enough, because he nodded decisively and sat down again, cross-legged, resting his arms on his knees and leaning forward. "Okay. If you want to know so badly, I'll tell you exactly what I did to earn the death sentence. Whether or not you believe me is up to you."

Rebecca waited patiently for him to speak, forcing herself to breathe regularly. She had already decided that she would accept whatever story he told. Billy wouldn't lie to her, of that she was certain. If he actually deserved his punishment, then as least she would know the reason why.

"A year ago," he began, "I was serving with the marines in Africa. I was smart and hard-working, not to mention good at blowing the enemies' brains out, so I made Lieutenant pretty quickly after I joined. I was second-in-command of a squad of fifteen men that were dropped in the jungle in the middle of June. Out mission was to locate a guerrilla hideout and get rid of it. It wasn't long, though, before we realized that someone on top had given us bad information."

Rebecca opened her mouth to say something, but Billy held up his hand to silence her. "Hear the rest of the story before you say anything, okay?" He was quiet for a moment before continuing. "We were way off course, staggering through the jungle in a bad dream. The heat killed some of our men; others died of strange diseases that made their skin swell and burst like an overripe fruit. A few just disappeared during the night and were never seen again. In the end, when we made it to our destination, only four were left, including me - and our commander, who in this story shall remain nameless."

He looked away, as if the rest of his tale was too painful to relate face to face. "Only the place we found was no guerrilla hideout. It was a village full of innocent women and children who were unable to defend themselves. But our commander had lost his mind, whether because of the heat, or the stress of losing so many of his men - or hell, maybe he was already that way, and we just didn't know."

Rebecca's voice was a barely audible whisper. "What happened, Billy?"

"He ordered them all slain, every last one. Twenty-three people that had never harmed a soul, and had no reason to die. You have no idea how the faces of each one are burned into my mind. I tried to stop him, Rebecca - God, I tried, but the fucking bastard had no soul. He said that I was rebelling against his leadership, and he smacked me with the butt of his rifle. When I came to, it was nighttime, and I was lying on the ground with my head bleeding, surrounded by the corpses of the villagers. I found out later that while I was out cold, the others had conspired to blame me for the killings. They clapped handcuffs on me and dragged me back to America to stand trial. Naturally, I was appointed the most incompetent lawyer the court could find. I was found guilty and sentenced to death, and they were taking me to be executed when we met."

He let out a long sigh and pushed back his hair, which had gotten messy while he was thrashing around in the throes of his dream. Most of it went into place, but a little clump fell back onto his forehead and lay there, dark against his skin.

"I don't expect you to believe me," he said. "No one else did."

He stopped in surprise as Rebecca suddenly threw her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. He folded her into an awkward hug, patting her back.

"Billy," she said, her voice broken with guilt and sympathy. "I'm so sorry. I never should have doubted you, even for a moment."

"Hey, hey," he said, a little stunned by the realization that someone was actually crying for _him. _"You did what you thought was right at the time. No one can fault you for that."

"I can," she sniffed, her nose still buried in the warmth of his shoulder. It was strange, she thought, that she had given him a hug to make him feel better, but that he was ending up comforting her instead. _Typical Billy … always watching out for me, even when he's the one that needs help the most. _

A sudden idea occurred to her, and she pulled away from him. "Billy! You said that you sustained a wound to the head and were knocked unconscious during the whole thing, right?"

He nodded, looking puzzled.

"Then you'll have a scar," she said. Her delicate fingers searched over his left temple until she found what she was looking for: a faint pale mark where the skin had been broken by a heavy blow.

"Right here?" she asked, tapping the place. He nodded again.

"This is excellent!" she exclaimed. "With this, we can prove that you're innocent. This is where your commander hit you when you tried to stop him."

He looked at her with undisguised affection, but also with sadness. "Honey, I'm touched that you're trying to help me out, but you're not thinking here. What's to stop him from claiming that _he _tried to stop _me _from killing them, and knocked me out to do so?"

She felt a rush of discouragement, but it was accompanied with determination to help him. "I _will _find a way to prove your innocence, Billy. I promise."

She stood up, feeling a newfound sense of responsibility towards the man in front of her. She also couldn't help but feel a little proud that he had chosen to disclose his terrible story to her.

_I won't let you down, Billy, _she vowed silently. _There _has _to be something I can do. _

A low piercing moan that reverberated throughout the building reminded her that the creature she had run away from earlier was still roaming around the facility unchecked. She jumped to her feet, automatically reached for her pistol. Then she remembered the magnum that she'd found. It was sitting on top of her med kit. She picked it up and handed it to Billy.

"There you go," she said. "Sorry, I had to use all the ammo that we found. There should still be a few rounds in there, though."

His eyes widened with surprise and pleasure, and Rebecca had to stifle the thought that he looked really cute. She handed him the shotgun as well, along with the two remaining boxes of ammo for it.

"Now that you're free," she said with mock sternness, "I expect you to start pulling your weight around here. I'm not going to be saving your sorry butt from everything we run into anymore."

He saluted, grinning. 'Yes, ma'am!"

Together, they headed back up the stairs and into the large storage room that Rebecca had been in before. The medic noticed that Billy was moving slower than before and favoring his injured side, and she made a mental note to keep an eye on him.

Rather than go back the way she came and risk running straight into the creature, Rebecca decided to take a door on the other side of the room. Billy trailed meekly behind her, seemingly as content to let her take the lead as he had been before.

The new room seemed to be the facility's barracks, for there was a row of bunk beds along one wall, and some lockers in the corner. Rebecca checked these and was relieved to find some more rounds for her pistol, as well as Billy's magnum. There was also a first aid spray to replace the one she had used to heal Billy's wounds.

"Take a look at this," the ex-marine said, waving a file that he'd found on one of the bunks. "It lists data on a B.O.W. called the proto-tyrant. Apparently it's one of Umbrella's failed experiments."

Rebecca gasped when she saw the picture on the report. "That's the thing that attacked me earlier, when I was looking for you! I barely managed to escape by getting in the elevator. I think its still running around the building."

"We'd better watch out, then," Billy said grimly. He tossed the file back on the bed. "Let's go."

The door on the other side of the barracks led to a set of stairs, which in turn took them to a long corridor. Rebecca threw open the door at the end, scanning the area for any signs of trouble. The first thing she noticed was that the river flowed right through the center of the room, with walkways on both sides. A thick cable was strung across the thinnest part of the flow.

"Hmm," Billy muttered, fiddling with a control panel on the wall. Now that he had his hands free, he couldn't seem to stop touching things. He moved a lever, and the cable activated, bringing a box-like container across the river towards them.

Rebecca was just taking a look at it when there was a deafening crash, and the tyrant burst through the wall right behind them. An unnameable liquid was oozing from various sores all over its body, and it seemed even angrier than before.

The S.T.A.R.S. medic didn't even have time to react. When Billy saw the furious creature emerge from the hole it had just created in the wall, he shoved Rebecca into the container and hit the switch to return it to the other side of the river. She pounded her fists against the metal walls of the container, but it was no use. She could only watch helplessly as Billy turned to face the beast alone.


	14. We Can't Be Stopped

Chapter Fourteen:

We Can't Be Stopped

**Hi, everyone ... I'm truly sorry about how long it took me to get this chapter out. I've had a horrendously busy day, and just now had time to sit down and write. We're really approaching the end of the story now. The next chapter will conclude the main part of the story, and all that will remain are the five different endings. I'd love to have feedback! Thanks for reading, and please enjoy!**

Billy turned to face the horrific creature in front of him, content with the knowledge that the most important thing had already been achieved. What happened next was more or less irrelevant, as long as Rebecca was safe. He may have failed to save those people in Africa, but at least he would not have the little medic's death on his conscience.

He could hear her now, screaming about something on the other side of the river. It sounded like she was calling his name, but he couldn't really be sure. The adrenaline pumping through his system was making it difficult to concentrate on anything that was not right under his nose.

He hefted the Colt .45 that Rebecca had given him. It was a fine gun; Billy could feel its balance in his large palm. He eyed the beast in front of him.

"I'm not scared of you, you overgrown punk," he spat. "Bring it on … I'll fight you to the death if I have to."

At the sound of his voice, the tyrant roared and struck out wildly with his larger arm. Billy rolled away, focusing his fire on the thing's bare feet. _If I can cripple it … _

The tyrant staggered and bellowed again, thrusting its claws towards Billy's face. The ex-marine barely even felt the small gash that the attack opened on his cheek. His attention had suddenly been dragged back across the river by the sound of Rebecca's voice.

"I'm coming over, Billy!"

"No, don't!" he shouted back, putting as much force into the words as possible. "In case you didn't notice, there's something seriously fucked living in the water. Just stay over there, Rebecca, okay? I've got this!"

He turned away just in time to receive a blow from the tyrant that took all the breath from his body. The large, clawed hand pinned him against the wall, holding him there as the creature gusted its foul breath onto his face.

"Trying to make me a liar, are you?" Billy snarled. "I don't take too kindly to that." He twisted his wrist at an awkward angle so he could jam the barrel of his .45 against the beast's hand. He fired three times, feeling the ache in the bones of his arm. The tyrant staggered backwards, several large holes gaping in the flesh of its hand.

Taking advantage of the creature's momentary weakness, Billy fired his last round right into the hideously swollen face. It struck close to the eye, and the thing wailed, trying to shield itself with its smaller hand.

Pity ran through Billy like an electric current, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Pity for the poor bastard who had become this monster - surely, whatever he had done in life, it was not bad enough to merit such punishment. His finger hesitated on the trigger of his shotgun, unwilling to fire.

Then the tyrant's head swung around to stare across the river, and Billy's moment of weakness faded. _I have to protect her. I can't let that thing get Rebecca. _

"Hey," he growled. "I'm over here, remember?" He fired at the back of the monster's head, and it spun around, slamming its hand into the ground where he had stood a few seconds before.

"Too slow," Billy taunted it, dodging around so he was facing it with his back to the river. An idea had formed in his mind as to how he could get rid of this thing for good. Guns obviously weren't going to do any good, if his .45 shot to the head didn't kill it, and he didn't have anything to blow it up.

He took another step backwards, feeling the edge of the walkway under his boot. "You want me, right?" he said softly. The tyrant may not have been able to speak, but he was pretty sure it could understand him. It let out a low grunt and shuffled towards him, its arm reaching out with the claws spread wide, ready to seize him and crush his guts out.

"Well, then, come and get me!" Billy yelled, and jumped backwards with all his strength. His outstretched hand barely managed to snag the cable that stretched across the river. He dangled there, his boots skimming the rushing water as the tyrant paced back and forth on the walkway, obviously puzzled as to what it should do.

_Come on, you bastard, take the bait … _

Suddenly, from across the river, a shot was fired. Billy twisted his head around to look and saw Rebecca standing with his feet firmly planted and her smoking pistol pointed right at the thing's head.

"You don't want him … he's too tough," she shouted. "Come over here and get _me_!"

Billy understood what she was trying to do, but he didn't like it. Bouncing up and down on the cable, he got low enough that he could kick water in the tyrant's direction. "She's too small!" he exclaimed. "She wouldn't make a satisfactory meal. I'm guaranteed to fill you up _all _the way."

The confusion of being faced with two humans who were both begging to be killed was too much for the tyrant's brain. It roared and went for Billy, who was closer. The ex-marine barely managed to twist aside in time to avoid the outstretched claws, which tore another furrow in his already mangled shirt.

The tyrant hung suspended for a moment in the air, limbs flailing, before it plunged into the water. It surfaced in a rush of bubbles, but Billy already knew that his plan had been a success. He knew from the moment that he saw a dark shadow under the water, speeding quickly to see what had disturbed its territory.

Huge jaws gaped wide, teeth the length of Billy's arm jutting forth from the rotting flesh. The maw snapped shut on the tyrant, biting it clean in half lengthwise. Billy pulled his legs up just in time to avoid meeting the same fate. He looked down at the cloud of redness spreading through the water and sighed.

Moving slowly, lest he attract the water-dweller's deadly attention, he slung the shotgun over his shoulder and began hauling himself down the cable, headed for Rebecca. His wounded shoulder and side ached terribly, but he refused to let the pain dominate him. He dropped down and landed on the walkway.

Rebecca stalked up to him, the look in her eyes promising murder. She slammed her small fist into his chest. After everything he had experience, Billy hardly felt it, but he pretended to wince anyway.

"You jackass!" the young medic exclaimed, glaring at him. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don't need you to shove me out of harm's way every time something comes up."

Tears gleamed in her eyes, and the sight of them hurt Billy more than any wound. He looked down at the ground.

"You're right, Rebecca. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

She looked a little surprised to have him agree so easily. "Well … I guess I forgive you. Just don't do it again. I mean … I was really worried about you. You shouldn't be fighting a battle like that with your injuries. You could get yourself killed!"

It was his turn to be surprised. He had thought she was angry because he had prevented her from being in the battle. But she sounded like she was more upset that he had been in danger.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said gently. In the back of his mind, he knew that the pet name had become much more than that to him. To her, maybe, he was just being flirtatious, but he knew better. When he called her that, it was so that he could pretend, just for that moment, that she belonged to him.

_Let it go, _he told himself angrily. _There's no way you could possibly make her happy. The whole world thinks you're a murderer, for Christ's sake! Rebecca's the only one who believes differently. _

"Hey. _William. _Are you listening to me?" A hand waving in front of his face forced Billy's mind back to the present. He raised his eyebrow at the girl in front of him.

"Did I just hear you call me William?"

'That's your name, right?" Rebecca demanded. "Lieutenant William Coen."

Billy sighed. "The point of having a nickname is so that people don't have to use your real one. Only my mom calls me William."

He wasn't sure if Rebecca caught the faint trace of bitterness in his voice when he spoke. His mother had been one of the many people taken in by the lie, and she had disowned him after "finding out" what he had supposedly done. She had always used his full name when referring to him, but now she wouldn't even call him that anymore. In her eyes, he had become _"that man", _and was never spoken about.

"You're spacing out again, Billy," Rebecca sighed. "Are you sure you're all right? Did that thing hit you on the head or something?"

"I'm fine," he repeated, but this time his voice was heavy with his memories. "Let's get moving again. We can't afford to stay here for too long."

Rebecca kept a close eye on Billy as they headed along the walkway and through the door at the end. She was worried about him; not his physical health, but his mental state. He was acting so strangely, staring off into thin air with a forlorn expression on his face and not responding to her playful remarks.

_Maybe I shouldn't have been so mean to him, _she thought with a small prick of guilt. _After all, he put himself in danger to keep me out of it. It was really a very sweet thing for him to do. And then I yelled at him …_

She caught up to him, opening her mouth to apologize, and stopped dead. Billy was holding what appeared to be a package of high-power explosives.

"Where did you find those?" she asked.

"In that footlocker," he replied. "We should keep them. They might come in handy. There's also another key card in here." He handed it to her and pocketed the explosives. To Rebecca's relief, the sparkle seemed to have returned to his eye. Whatever dark thought that had been plaguing him had dissipated for the time being.

The magnetic card opened a door on the other side of the room. A long hallway stretched out before them. All was eerily silent, making every small movement seem magnified.

Billy let out a long sigh and reloaded his shotgun to its full capacity. "Stay close, sweetheart. I have a feeling that we're either about to find the way out, or the big boss of this place. Or both at once."

Rebecca looked at him, puzzled. To her, the hallway seemed no different from any other they had been through that day. "What makes you say that, Billy?"

"Soldier's intuition," he said, tapping the side of his head. "I can always tell when there's something around that wants to kill me. And the room up ahead of us is practically screaming for our blood."

Rebecca gulped nervously, unconsciously moving closer to Billy's solid strength. He noticed her uncertainty and put a large hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Don't worry, little girl. I'll keep you safe." And with that bold statement, he reached forward, twisted the handle, and opened the door.


	15. The Queen of the Leeches

Chapter Fifteen:

The Queen of the Leeches

**Well, everyone, this is it! From here on out, everything that happens will vary depending on what ending you're reading. I'm going to publish one a day for the next five days. After that ... well, I guess the story will be done. I really appreciate all of you who have read it all the way through. Let me know what you think of this chapter, and also which ending you like best. If there's a scenario that you were looking forward to that I didn't cover, let me know and I might write it. Thanks again, and please enjoy!**

A single man stood in the room before them. Unlike the various monsters and dead things they had encountered during their time in the research facility, this man appeared to be in perfect health. He was tall and pale, with shoulder-length brown hair and wide blue eyes that burned like torches in the darkness. He was dressed only in a white robe with blue designs that reached to his bare feet and was belted with rope around the waist. His arms were raised up, and he was singing in a voice that no human could possibly own. The floor at his feet was covered in leeches.

"Who the hell are you?" Billy demanded, stepping forward so that his body was subtly shielding Rebecca from the man's view.

The man stopped singing and fixed them with his bizarre eyes. "I am one of the more interesting things that Umbrella has managed to create," he said. "You may call me James Marcus."

"That old man whose picture we saw in the mansion? Bullshit," Billy said bluntly.

"I assure it is not," the man said. His lips curved into a smile. "The two of you fascinate me. Truly excellent specimens of what humanity is capable of. At first, I was just going to kill you, but … I think I'll reward you by giving you some answers first."

Billy lifted his magnum and pointed it right at the man's head. Rebecca could tell by the scowl on his face that he was not pleased to be referred to as a 'specimen'.

"Start talking, asshole," he snapped.

Marcus began to speak, his voice as smooth as if he was telling them the story over a pleasant cup of coffee. "Many years ago, when I was around the age I appear to be now, I befriended a man named Edward Ashford, who had similar interests to mine. Together, we decided to found a company that could serve as a cover for our real research - a virus called Progenitor. With the funding of Ozwell E. Spencer, Umbrella Corporation was born. For many years, I continued my studies uninterrupted, making more and more fascinating discoveries about the virus. Eventually, my colleague Ashford grew too careless and became infected with his own disease. It was too strong for his body, and he died. Ten years later, I discovered the t-virus by mixing the Progenitor with the DNA strands of leeches."

"Then _you're _the man responsible for this horrible outbreak!" Rebecca cried, pushing past Billy to confront Marcus face to face. Rage flowed through her as she thought of all the innocent people that had been murdered by the virus, only to have their bodies resurrected in a foul mockery of human life.

Marcus inclined his head in acknowledgment. "That is correct, although my actual target was Umbrella. You see, dear old Spencer made a rather bad mistake. He began to grow rather jealous of the influence that I had over the company, and paranoid that I would try to oust him from his position of power. He ordered his two young protégés - boys by the name of Birkin and Wesker-"

But he got no further, for Rebecca fell to her knees with a startled gasp. Billy knelt down beside her, looking anxious.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"D-did you say Wesker?" she stammered, looking up at Marcus. "Surely not the same …"

Marcus' thin smile grew larger. "Yes, my dear, one and the same. The Albert Wesker that you trust and respect as the captain of S.T.A.R.S. has actually been working for Umbrella all along."

Rebecca felt dizziness overcome her, and slumped against Billy's supporting arm. "No … I don't believe it. I _cant_."

Above her, she could hear the one-sided conversation continue. "Yes, both of you would have been no more than children the day it happened. They stormed my facility and gunned me down, and then threw my lifeless body into a cesspool to rot. But they made one mistake, yes, a very fatal one. You see, at the time, I was experimenting on a pet queen leech that escaped its cage and found me dying in the water. It crawled into my body through the mouth, and bonded with my DNA, allowing me to be reborn. And now I will have my revenge upon Umbrella, and the world will burn in an inferno of hate!"

Rebecca didn't have to see Billy's face to recognize the cocky smile that she was so familiar with. "So basically, what you're saying," he smirked, "is that you're really female."

There was a tone of annoyance in Marcus' voice when he spoke again. "Ignore the facts all you like, Mr. Coen. It is time for you and your friend to die."

The next moment, Rebecca felt Billy start back in surprise. Then her body was lifted effortlessly into the air by strong arms and carried for a few feet. Billy set her down behind some crates.

"Snap out of it, Rebecca," he muttered in her ear. "I need you." Then his comforting warmth was gone, and Rebecca was left alone. She shivered, clutching her knees to her chest. The news of Wesker's betrayal had shaken her deeply, leaving her unsure of anything.

_Can I even trust the others? What about Enrico? I can trust him, can't I? He said the others were dead, that we were the only ones left. Did he abandon them? Is that why they died? What about Chris and Jill and Barry and Brad and Joseph? They're not traitors, are they? But Wesker is their captain … _

The sound of gunshots rang through the air, and she suddenly remembered what had been happening. _Billy, _she thought. _I can trust Billy. He doesn't have anything to do with any of this. He's not S.T.A.R.S. He's innocent. He's fighting that thing alone, and I've got to go and help him. _

She peeked over the edge of the crates, and couldn't stifle a horrified gasp when she saw what stood before them. Marcus' body had mutated out of control, turning into a barely humanoid figure with pale, slimy skin and tentacles that sprouted from various parts of its body. Billy was shooting at it, but his bullets had less effect than on the tyrant.

With alarm, Rebecca noticed that a group of leeches had separated from the main body and were creeping up behind the ex-marine, preparing to swarm him much the same way that they had come at her on the train. Taking aim with her pistol, she fired, killing three of them and sending the rest oozing quickly back into the shadows. Then she ran forward to stand next to Billy.

"How many rounds do you have left in your grenade launcher?" he asked, stepping to one side to dodge a thrashing tentacle.

Rebecca made a mental inventory. "Five," she said. "Why?"

Billy grinned. "Do you think leeches like fire?"

The young medic dropped her handgun and pulled out the larger weapon, taking aim at the monster in front of her. "I'd stand back if I were you," she warned, and then pulled the trigger.

Billy's theory proved to be correct. The Queen Leech responded very violently to the fire that burned at her flesh. Rebecca fired all the rest of the grenades for good measure, and at last, the terrible creature slumped to the ground and lay still. Billy stepped forward and kicked it, and the only response that he got was the slight twitch of one of the tentacles. He wiped slime off his boot and frowned.

"That was too easy."

Rebecca was investigating the white robe that had dropped to the ground when Marcus transformed. In the pocket were two keys, one gold and one silver. She held them up for Billy to see.

"Looks like this is our ticket out of here," she said. "Let's try them on that door over there." She pointed to the other side of the room, where a set of double doors stood. On either side of them was a panel with a keyhole in it.

Rebecca handed the gold key to Billy, and they each stood by one of the panels. "We'll put in our keys together, okay?" she said. "On three. One … two … three!" She inserted her key, and Billy did the same. There was a click as the doors were unlocked. Billy pushed them open, his magnum preceding him into the new room.

They were standing in a quiet office room that seemed largely untouched. There was a crate of ammunition in one corner that carried several boxes of rounds for each of their weapons, except for the grenade launcher. There was also a typewriter similar to the one in the main hall of the mansion. While Billy checked and reloaded all of the guns, Rebecca sat down and wrote a detailed report, making sure to record Marcus' tale, and the fact that Wesker was a traitor.

_I hope Enrico finds this, _she thought. _If Wesker gets to the other S.T.A.R.S. members before I can warn them, I don't even want to know what could happen. _

"You ready, sweetheart?" Billy asked, handing her back her pistol. The grenade launcher she had discarded - without rounds to put in it, it was useless.

"I'm ready," she confirmed, tucking her pistol into its holster at her hip. Together, they headed for the elevator at the end of the room. Billy hit the button for the top floor and they started riding upwards towards their freedom.

"What's the first thing you're going to do once you get out of here?" Billy asked suddenly.

Rebecca considered this. "I'm going to take a long bath and eat a whole carton of ice cream while watching the scariest movie I can find so I can laugh at how pathetic it is compared to what we've been through. What about you?"

Billy gave her a long look. "Does this mean you're not going to turn me in after all?"

Rebecca nodded. "Of course I'm not. You're innocent. I'm going to report you as dead so that you can get a fresh start on your life." She blushed when she saw surprise and gratitude shining in his eyes. "Don't thank me, Billy. I'm just doing the right thing."

He winked at her. "Okay, then. But if you want them to believe you, you'll need this." Reaching up, he unclipped the chain that held his dog tags and put it around Rebecca's neck. She felt the cool metal brush against her skin and smiled.

"It looks good on you," Billy commented, making her blush even more. He captured her eyes with his own and leaned down slowly. Rebecca was frozen in place, her heart thudding wildly against her chest.

_Is … is he really going to kiss me? _

His face was inches away from her own when the elevator suddenly jerked alarmingly. Billy's hands gripped Rebecca's arm, keeping her from falling. The doors opened began to open, but Rebecca let out a little shriek when the floor level dropped down a foot.

"Billy-" she gasped.

"I know," he said grimly. "Jump!" He ran forward and forced his way through the partially-open door, dragging Rebecca behind him. They reached safety not a moment too soon, as the elevator collapsed under the weight of whatever was hanging on the bottom and fell back down the shaft with a grinding screech of metal on metal. Up from the gap appeared the singed body of the Queen Leech.

Only something was different. She had grown in mass, and with her expansion had shed any resemblance to a human. The tentacles had thickened and sprouted razor-sharp spines. She waved them at the two people in front of her in a threatening way as she slowly advanced.

"Shit," Billy grunted as he they backed up, trying to put as much distance as they could between them and the creature. "I knew it went down too easily. Looks like its just gotten more bad-ass."

Rebecca cast her gaze around the room, trying desperately to locate anything that could help them. They were in a large, windowless warehouse, and it was fairly dark. She could see Billy's form next to her, and the monstrous outline of the Queen Leech, but not too much else.

Then she noticed a row of light switches on the wall, and an idea occurred to her. "Billy, cover me!" she cried. His hand found hers briefly, and he squeezed to show that he heard and understood. As Rebecca ran for the wall, Billy stood his ground and fired his magnum directly into the beast's body.

Rebecca flipped the switches, cursing when they moved uselessly up and down without provoking any response from the overhead lights. _Power's out, of course. I have to find the breaker box. _

Behind her, Billy hissed in pain as a tentacle wrapped around his leg, the long spines digging harshly into his flesh. She turned around, running back to help him, but he waved her away. Grabbing Rebecca's combat knife, which had somehow stayed belted to his waist throughout their entire ordeal, he slashed the tentacle in two. The remaining half stayed coiled around his leg like a length of bizarre rope, drawing trickles of blood that stained his jeans a dark red.

"Go!" he shouted, waving his free arm at her. Dropping his now-empty magnum, he took out the shotgun and started firing. The Queen Leech fell back a pace, writhing and hissing at him.

Rebecca tripped and fell to her hands and knees, scrambling up again and continuing on. Her palms burned where they had struck the rough floor, but ignored it. The only thing in her mind was the urgent need to return power to the building so she could save Billy. _How much longer can he last against that thing? _

The ear-splitting blasts from the shotgun ceased, and she heard a dry click that echoed throughout the whole building. Billy was out of ammo. Now the only thing he could do was dodge and wait for her to find what she needed.

It was a miracle that she could even see it in the dark; a small, grey panel on the wall. Sprinting over to it, she flipped it open and turned the power dial all the way up. Then she dashed back along the wall to where the switches were located. Her hands shook as she pushed them all up.

_The next few seconds will show whether we will live or die. If this doesn't work, then there will be nothing left. If it does, we might survive. _

As light flooded through the room, she turned around. The Queen Leech groveled on the floor, trying to shield her self from the rays that burned her sensitive flesh. After so long in the dark, Rebecca realized that it must be incredibly painful for her to be exposed to so much light and heat.

She looked down as saw that a dead man sat nearby, propped up against the wall, another .45 held in his flaccid grip. She pried it out of his hands and checked it. One round. A single bullet. It was all the hope they had.

"Billy!" she shouted. When he turned to look at her, she tossed the magnum. It spun lazily through the air to land in Billy's waiting hand. He flicked the safety off, stepping to one side for a better shot.

"Hey, bitch," he said, lifting the gun. At the sound of his voice, the Queen Leech jerked her head up. Her tentacles flew forward, ready to cut him to pieces.

"Feast on this!" Billy exclaimed, firing the magnum. Time slowed, and the bullet gleamed in the artificial light as it flew forward, aimed straight at the Queen Leech's head.


	16. Ending 1: The Lighter Theif

Ending One:

The Lighter Thief

**Hi, everyone - I hope you enjoy the first ending of the story. Don't stop reading yet - there are four more to go. I'm sorry that this one is a little bit on the short side ... I promise the next one will be much longer (and more satisfactory to those that wanted a kiss). I just threw this one in because you can't always have a happy ending ... or can you? Anyway, enjoy and please let me know what you think!**

Billy's bullet struck the Queen Leech directly in the head, sending her reeling backwards into the elevator shaft. She plunged downwards, her grossly distended body bouncing off the walls. There was a loud squishing sound when she hit the bottom of the pit, and then total silence.

Just to be sure, Billy and Rebecca waiting for several minutes, not saying a word. The young medic half-expected the horrible creature to reappear, but the moment never came.

"I think we did it," Billy said. He limped over to her and sat down on a crate, resting his head wearily in his hands. Rebecca pulled a roll of bandages and some antiseptic out of her med kit, kneeling beside him. He groaned and flinched away from her touch.

"That hurts like hell, damn it!"

"That's because there are about ten spikes stuck in your flesh," Rebecca retorted, resuming her grip on the end of the tentacle. "I'll hurt a lot more if it gets infected and your whole leg falls off."

"You've got a point, sweetheart," he said, smiling despite the pain. He held still after that, although Rebecca felt the muscles in his leg clench up as she carefully uncoiled the tentacle and dressed the wounds that the spines had caused.

"There we go - all done," she said, tying off the bandage and standing up. "How does it feel?"

"Not bad," Billy admitted, testing the limb to see if it would hold his weight.

"Good. Now let's get out of here."

Together, they walked - or rather, she walked and he limped heavily - towards the door in one corner of the warehouse. Rebecca reached for the handle, praying that it was not locked, and that it would not take them deeper into the maze. To her relief, she saw a cobalt blue sky studded with diamond-like stars. A jagged skyline marked the tops of the trees that stretched out in all directions in front of them. They were back in Raccoon Forest.

Rebecca knelt down, letting her fingers brush over the grass at her feet as though it was a rare thing that she would see only once in life. If Billy had not been standing by her side, she might even have bent over and kissed the raw earth at her feet.

"We're out," she whispered, her voice thick with relief. "We really made it."

"Yeah." He was silent for a moment. "What happens now?"

Rebecca hated the words that she was about to say. She wished that she had the courage to reach out and tell him how she felt, to throw caution aside and blurt out all the emotions that were running through her body like wildfire - sadness at the thought of leaving him, fear for his survival, gratitude that he had stuck by her side through everything, and something else, a certain warmth that filled her whenever she looked at him. She wanted nothing more than to stay by his side.

But she couldn't. She had a responsibility towards Enrico and the members of Alpha team to warn them about Wesker's treachery. And, as much as she didn't want to admit it, she was afraid of what a life at Billy's side would hold for her. She wasn't sure she could deal with being a fugitive, always running away from the law she had sworn to uphold.

"Billy," she said, looking him in the eye. What she saw there both pleased and frightened her. He reflected the same needs and desires that she had come to experience over the past ten hours.

_Please, _she thought. _Don't say anything. If you ask me to come with you, I won't be able to say no._

Perhaps he heard her unspoken plea. Or perhaps he had the same doubts that she had. Either way, he stayed silent, waiting for her to speak.

"I'm going to find the rest of my team," she said finally. "Billy … take care of yourself, please."

"I will," he promised. "You too, Rebecca. Keep an eye out. Maybe we'll meet again some day."

"I won't forget you, Billy," she said quietly, imprisoning her tears behind an iron wall. "We'll always be friends."

He grinned at her. "Yeah, we will." Stepping back a few paces, he gave her a thumbs up before spinning on his heel and striding into the trees. And just like that, he was gone. And Rebecca could not stop herself from crying when she knew that he had to be dead in her memories as well. She could never let anyone know the truth.

"Goodbye, Billy," she whispered. She stared into the trees for a moment longer, trying to burn his image into the mind forever, before she turned around and clenched her fingers around her gun, preparing herself for whatever lay ahead.

_One week later:_

Rebecca trudged down the stairs, full laundry basket gripped tightly in her hands. It had been seven entire days since the showdown in the Umbrella mansion - every single one had seemed as long as a year - and she was just now getting back into her normal routine. She had thought things were bad with Billy by her side, but the horror that she had experience after leaving him and going after her team was far worse. She had been unable to sleep at nights without taking heavy medication, and it made her wake up in the morning drowsy and disoriented.

But alive. If the recent events had taught her anything, it was a true appreciation of how good it was just to live. She had seen so much death, so many people transformed into horrific beasts against their will, that it was all she could do not to shout in joy that she was not one of them.

As she dropped her filthy, stiff, blood-stained clothes into the washing machine, her thoughts strayed to Billy, as they had done many times over the past week. She wondered where he was, if he was doing well, if he missed her at all. She wondered if his dreams were plagued by the same nightmarish creatures that haunted her sleep. She wondered if he ever thought about what had happened.

_Most likely he's concentrated on rebuilding his life, _she thought. _A chance that I gave him. _A small spark of pride ran through her as she remembered the straight-faced lie that she'd told to her police chief, speaking primly even though the words tasted like ash in her mouth.

"_The criminal known as Billy Coen is dead, sir. I found his body, and managed to retrieve this." _'This' being Billy's dog tags, which now hung around her neck, thinly concealed by her shirt.

_I hope things go well for you, Billy. _She smiled as she pictured the ex-marine's cocky grin, teeth flashing as he teased her about something. Rebecca had never given herself a chance to regret the lost relationship that she might have shared with him; she had kept herself falsely busy ever since the incident, working her mind and body so hard that she had no time for idle thoughts.

She picked up a pair of pants; the gory marks splattered liberally across them marked them as the ones she'd been wearing the fateful, stormy night that she'd met Billy. She absent-mindedly thrust her hand into the pocket, a routine that she'd developed ever since she had shredded a hundred dollar bill in the wash and now did with as much thought as she put into breathing.

To her surprise, she felt something cool and smooth under her fingertips. Snapped out of her daze, she plucked the object out and looked at it. It was a lighter. Billy's lighter - the one that she'd confiscated from him while he was still in handcuffs. Her heart skipped a beat as his low voice echoed through her head.

"_You thief! You should be the one in handcuffs, not me."_

"Oh, crap," she whispered to herself, not even caring if some of the other tenants heard her and thought she'd gone crazy. "I completely forgot to give him his lighter back."

Within moments, a daring idea had occurred to her. In another few seconds, she had decided to do it. In her mind, she told herself that it was because she didn't want to have taken something that belonged to him. _This absolutely does not mean that I'm making up excuses to see him again. It's the right thing to do … just like letting him go in the first place._

"So I accidentally stole his lighter," she said, calm with the knowledge of what she was going to do. "It's okay. I'll just go and give it back to him."


	17. Ending 2: I Can't Live Without You

Ending Two:

I Can't Live Without You

**This is the second ending to the story, a little longer this time. This is my first real attempt at writing a scenario like this (romance and everything) so let me know how I did. I hope it was satisfactory. Three more endings to go, now. Thanks so much for reading!**

As the bullet blasted a new path through the center of the Queen Leech's eye, as Rebecca watched her stagger and fall, oozing into a disconnected puzzle of meaningless pieces, as she heard silence return to the room, all that she could think about was Billy. He was wounded; did the leech's spines have toxins in them? Did he need medical treatment? She should have him lie down while she carefully removed and analyzed the thing that had hurt him.

"Guh. Urgh. Shit!" Looking over, she saw Billy rip the tentacle free of his flesh, splattering the floor with blood. He held the thing up, staring at it in disgust, before he through it at the limp pool of slime that was the remains of the Queen Leech, everything James Marcus had stood for.

"Hey, are you all right?" he asked, limping over to her. He left a trail of blood in his wake.

Rebecca sighed. _I guess I didn't need to be so concerned after all. _"I'm fine. Tired and a little shaken up, maybe. Hungry as heck, that's for sure. And in dire need of a bit of the good old "rest and recuperation"."

"Let's go outside," Billy said. He reached out as if to take her hand, and then abruptly drew back. The whole movement took less than a second, and left Rebecca wondering if she had just imagined it.

Together, they stumbled towards the door that would lead them out of the building - from the terrors that the Umbrella facility contained to the monsters that stalked the dark woods. Upon exiting, and seeing the shadowy expanse of freedom stretching out in front of them, Billy threw his arms in the air and let out a shout of jubilation. He turned to Rebecca to see if she shared in his excitement, but the little medic was sitting on the ground, staring numbly at her hands while her mind raked over problems that she had no good solution to.

"Hey," Billy said, his tone bringing back memories of when they had first met, on the train ten hours - an entire lifetime - ago. She looked up at him, the man that in such a brief time she had come to know better than any of her teammates, and she saw the gentle concern in his eyes. Behind that was something else that she didn't dare think about, lest it sway her from the path that was already laid out for her.

"I have to go, sweetheart," he said regretfully. "I'm a wanted man … if I stick around for too long, it'll just cause trouble for both of us."

She nodded silently, lacking the strength to say the words that echoed in her heart. _Don't go, Billy! Please, don't leave me alone. I … I need you. _

He stood up, his fingertips brushing across her cheek as lightly as a butterfly's wing. Then he turned around, heading for a gap in the trees ahead. Rebecca stared after him, her mind frozen.

_Say something, stupid! It took you this long to figure out how you really feel, and now you can't even speak when it matters most? Useless, Rebecca Chambers. You're useless. _

Her heart ached. She felt like she was dangling on the edge of a cliff with two options ahead of her: to be pulled to safety and live a dull, boring life, or to take the plunge into the unknown, in the hopes that it would be more fulfilling to her. Once she chose, she would not be able to go back. The decision she would make in the next few seconds would change her life forever.

She made the choice.

"Billy, wait!"

He turned around, his dark eyes searching her wide green ones for the answer that was waiting there.

"Take me with you! I don't care if I'm throwing my career in S.T.A.R.S. into the trash. I don't care if I have to spend my life running away. I don't care about any of that! I just … I can't say goodbye to you, Billy. I feel like … I don't want to live the rest of my life not knowing where you are, and if you're doing well. I … Oh, Billy, I …"

His fingers found her hand, pulling her to her feet.

"Let's go," he said.

_One week later:_

The motel was a small, dingy little building on the edge of a town whose name Rebecca never bothered to learn. The beds were hard, the sheets as thin as paper, but it felt like a pallet of goose down compared to the damp ground she'd been sleeping on the for past seven days.

Billy was testing out the shower, trying to wash away the absolute filth of their week's hike through the woods. Their story - the one they'd told to the squinty-eyed, fat motel owner - was that they were hikers who got lost. Unfortunately, that didn't really cover the blood that was splattered liberally across their clothes, but it was so blended it with the dirt and slime that it would take a forensics lab to tell the difference.

On their second day out, hungry and exhausted, they had been fortunate enough to run across an abandoned (well, mostly abandoned) supply truck parked on one of the back roads. Disposing of three zombified guards - the driver was nowhere to be found - had been a small price to pay for the wealth of food, clean clothes, and ammunition that the cache had offered.

Rebecca closed her eyes. She still felt guilty for abandoning her team members, for letting them believe she was dead. She had called Enrico to warn him about Wesker, to let him know that she had found Billy's body, and to tell him that she would be 'right over'. It wasn't easy for her to accept that two of those three statements were lies, and that rather than being missing in action, as Enrico would suppose, she had actually gone AWOL. If they ever caught her, she would almost certainly be punished.

But none of that mattered, because she had Billy. He had continued to prove his trustworthiness again and again as he saved her from an infected bear that had discovered their makeshift camp, and carried her when she got too tired to walk, and never once said that she was slowing him down, or that he wished she hadn't come.

The loud patter of water from the bathroom ceased, and a moment later, Billy appeared, dressed in clean jeans and a black, long-sleeve shirt that they had taken from the supply truck. His hair was dripping water all over the carpet. He had also shaved the week's growth of hair that had covered his cheeks, and with it, looked about ten years younger. He noticed Rebecca staring and grinned at her.

"You're up if you want. Just be careful, though. The water pressure is so high that it feels like a typhoon in there. It'll take your goddamn skin off."

"Thanks for the warning," Rebecca said, standing up. "I'm so ready to be clean I could stand take a bath in Niagara Falls, though. Hey, do you want to order something to eat while I'm busy? I saw a Chinese place on our way into town that might do deliveries."

"I'll check it out," Billy said. She gave him a thumbs up and headed into the shower.

Billy's warning had not been an understatement. Rebecca could literally feel the top layer of skin peeling off her back under the torrential downpour. She cleaned as quickly as she could, dressed in her own set of clean clothes - pants and a t-shirt that were meant for someone several sizes larger - and went back out. The delivery man had just arrived. She paid him with a check, the same as she had done for the motel manager. She knew that it wasn't the best option, that it would leave a trail that someone could follow, but it was the only thing she could do. She didn't have any cash on her, and there was no way Billy was going to pay for anything.

They sat down on the edges of their separate beds, facing each other, and opened up the steaming fast-food containers. It was greasy and a little bland, but it was hot, and Rebecca felt that she'd never had anything so good in her whole life. Billy wolfed his down with equal gusto, then tossed the empty carton aside and lay back on the bed.

"Man, I'm shit tired. I could sleep for a year."

Rebecca nodded in agreement, flopping down and closing her eyes without even bothering to pull up the covers. A week ago, she would have been horrified at the thought of sharing a hotel room with any man, but now it hardly mattered. It had been more sensible to pay for just one room, that was all.

Billy flicked out the light, muttered a sleepy "Good night", within minutes was snoring softly. Rebecca wished that sleep would claim her as easily, but it coldly refused to fold her in its starry embrace. She lay awake, staring at the ceiling, haunted by the horrific things she had seen. Images flashed through her mind quicker than lightning: of the white monkey, his teeth bared in a snarl, of Dr. Marcus' head staring up at her from the ground while his body crumbled into a thousand moving chunks, of the tortured eyes of the proto-tyrant rolling within the swollen sockets.

She sat straight up with a muffled whimper as she heard a small sound in the corner. Was that … shuffling? No, just the ugly mauve curtains brushing against the floor. Footsteps went by outside, paused for a moment at their door before continuing, and she pressed back against the wall, terror overtaking her senses. Billy was stretched out on the other bed, totally oblivious to her distress.

_This is no good. I'll never get to sleep this way. _

It was painful to admit her fear, but at that point, she would have done anything just to be allowed to fall asleep in peace. Sliding across to the other bed, she curled up next to Billy's prone form, her head resting on his shoulder.

He twitched in his sleep and brought his hand around to rest snugly against her side. It sat there for a moment, his fingers gently exploring the foreign texture of her shirt, before he sat up, looking at her in surprise.

"Rebecca? What are you doing in my bed?"

She winced. "I … couldn't sleep," she muttered lamely.

It was hard to tell in the darkness, but she thought that he might be grinning. "Is that so?"

"Um, if it bothers you, I can go back to my own bed," she mumbled, fidgeting with the edges of the blanket.

"Don't do that," Billy said softly. The tone of his voice sent shivers down Rebecca's spine. They grew more intense a moment later as his hand found her cheek, caressed it.

"Billy-" she gasped, and was cut off as he pulled her into a tight embrace. At first, she tensed up, embarrassed by the realization that she was practically sitting on his lap. Then, as the comforting warmth of his strong arms and his breath on her neck overtook her alarm, she relaxed into the embrace.

"I've wanted to do this - to hold you like this - for so long now," Billy murmured in her ear. "Rebecca, you have no idea how much I wanted you to come with me. I was afraid to ask … afraid that being near me would cause you harm. I couldn't stand for that to happen."

She put her arms around his neck, feeling dampness soak into her shirt from his hair, which hadn't fully dried yet. His hands were entangled in her own hair, running through the short brown strands, gripping the back of her head tightly as he pressed her as close to him as he could without suffocating her.

They sat like that for what seemed like an eternity, gathering strength from their nearness. Then Rebecca pulled shakily away, fixed her eyes on his.

"Billy," she began, but he didn't wait for her to finish - didn't wait to hear the inevitable words. In one quick movement, he pressed his lips against hers, biting back a smirk at her surprised squeak. He teased her, pulling away briefly and then returning, all the more passionate for the absence. And Rebecca found that as shocked as her mind claimed she was, she _wanted _this, had wanted it for a long time, certainly since their almost-kiss on the elevator. Maybe even before.

Hours later, she blinked awake in the half-light of their room. The clock said it was close to dawn, so they had no need to worry - their check-out time wasn't until 11:00. Everything was peaceful. Billy slumbered quietly with his head resting on her chest, one arm by his side and the other raised up, fingers curled next to her ear. His bare feet hung over the bottom of the bed, but Rebecca didn't think he cared much.

Something had woken her up, a small, out-of-place noise. It came again - something tapping on her door. Voices speaking outside, muffled by the walls but still understandable.

"The door's locked, officer. Let me go and get the key."

Rebecca's hand found Billy's shoulder, shaking gently. He raised his head, giving her a questioning look, and she pointed to the door.

"We have to go," the breathed. He nodded, sliding noiselessly from the bed and reaching for his shirt and shoes. Rebecca did her part, gathering the few items that they had. As soon as she closed the pack, muffling the zipper with her hand, Billy's hand closed around her upper arm.

"The window," he whispered. Rebecca slid it open, praying that the old glass wouldn't squeak and give them away. She stepped through it, and he followed, closing it behind him. It bothered him how quickly they were found out; in the future, they would have to be more careful.

Taking Rebecca's small hand in his, he led her quickly towards the nearby forest, where they could take cover for a while. She was shivering the in the chilly pre-dawn air, and Billy felt a rush of guilt for allowing her to be dragged into this lifestyle.

_She chose it, _he reminded himself. _She chose _me. _I didn't ask her to do this. But hell, is it so wrong to be happy about it? _

"Would it have hurt those bastards any to at least let us sleep until the sun came up?" he grumbled, pleased to see a smile on Rebecca's cute face at his comment. She was taking all of this very well, considering, if she was still able to crack a smile. In that moment, Billy decided that whatever happened, it was worth it.

"Come on, little girl," he said, not letting go of her hand. Behind them, a shout indicated that their absence had been discovered.

They headed deeper into the forest, walking south, towards the new life that hopefully awaited them there.


	18. Ending 3: Rebecca's Hero

Ending 3:

Rebecca's Hero

**Let me know what you think, everyone. I felt depressed while writing the first part ... but the ending is happy! There are two more to go, so don't stop reading yet ... and I'd love to know what everyone thinks! I'm curious which ending everyone likes best. So, enjoy, and thanks for reading!**

Billy's aim was true. The heavy round pierced the Queen Leech's flesh just above her gaping mouth, sending a spurt of blood and slime into the air. She dropped to the ground, groveling there, shrieking at the knowledge of her own death. It was too much pain for her, to accept failure without taking at least one of those bothersome creatures with her. She lashed out.

Rebecca stared in horror as the dying Queen's tentacle looped around Billy's waist, lifting him effortlessly up. She shook him viciously, her own death throes lending to the action. Then, as the final spark of life deserted her tormented flesh, she threw him as hard as she could against the wall.

Rebecca's tongue was frozen in her mouth; she could not utter a single sound. She ran forward, not even feeling her feet hit the ground, and knelt at Billy's side. She could tell at once that the wounds were bad - great slashes across his chest and stomach and back where the Queen's razor-sharp tentacle had gripped him. Blood was quickly soaking through his clothing, forming a pool underneath him. It bubbled at his lips as he gasped for breath.

"No!" Rebecca exclaimed, finally finding her voice. She ripped open her med pack, dumped the contents onto the cement floor. Her eyes found what she was looking for: the first aid spray that she had picked up after the fight with the proto-tyrant. She flipped off the cap, held it over the horrible wounds …

And Billy's blood-covered hand grabbed hers, holding it tightly. "Stop," he rasped, his words thick with pain and difficult to understand.

Rebecca stared at him, not understanding in her panic. She was a medic, she had the supplies and knowledge to heal him … why was he refusing treatment?

"Save … it," he groaned, attempting with a little jerky movement to push her hand away. "For … yourself."

"Billy, don't be a moron," Rebecca said, fear making her voice sharp. "If I don't use this on you _right now, _you're going to die, understand? You'll bleed to death!"

He waved his hand vaguely in front of his chest. "Too … late. I'm … a goner. You can … still live, 'Becca. You … have to, for me. … okay?"

"Billy, no!" she protested, grabbing his hand and pressing it against her cheek. She didn't care about the smear of red that it would leave. Her tears overflowed and dropped down onto his skin, leaving clean trails through the blood. "I won't leave you, Billy," she choked out. "We're leaving together."

She grasped his hand and tugged, trying to pull him upright, but she let go again when his face contorted with pain. He pushed her away, his movements growing noticeably weaker.

"Listen," he said, making an effort to speak clearly. "When I die … if I come … back … I don't want you around. Leave me."

_I can't believe this is happening, _Rebecca thought, anguished. _We were supposed to make it out together! Marcus is dead … we killed him. Things weren't supposed to go this way. Billy … I was going to tell everyone that you were dead. Why did it have to be the truth?_

Billy had never experienced such pain in his entire life. The most wretched thing he had undergone to date was getting shot in the leg, and even that was nothing to the fire that encompassed his whole body. He could actually feel the life draining out of him with each drop of blood that fell to the ground. Speech was becoming harder, but there was something he wanted Rebecca to know before he passed out. Summoning all his remaining strength, he cupped her cheek in his hand.

"Hey … thank you. For a little while … with you … I was happy again. I'll die … peacefully … knowing you got away."

His own physical pain faded in comparison to the utter agony etched onto her face. She gripped his hand hard enough to hurt, if he had actually been able to feel it. His extremities seemed to be going rather numb.

_This is better than being executed, I guess, _he thought hazily. _If only she didn't have to be here to see it. And if only there was some way to guarantee that I won't be coming back as one of them … short of asking her to shoot me in the head, of course. _

It hit him in a flash: the dynamite he had picked up from the footlocker. He fumbled at his pocket, grabbed it, dragged it out, shoved it into her hand.

"Tape it … my chest. Light it up … run like hell." He couldn't even speak in full sentences anymore. The words came out kind of blurred, but it seemed like she understood. She took out a sticky bandage and secured the dynamite, right over his heart. He could feel the smooth, hard edges against his skin. He also felt something else - a tiny prick in his arm, followed by a coolness that flowed quickly through his body.

"Painkiller," Rebecca explained, putting the needle back into her bag and zipping it up. "I thought I at least could …" she trailed off, unable to say any more. She brought out his lighter, which was still in her pants pocket, and flipped it open. Billy grabbed at her hand and missed, his arm falling uselessly back into his lap.

Tenderly, like a mother with his newborn baby, Rebecca reached down and picked up his hand, placing it over hers. He tried to squeeze, but he doubted that she even felt the mild pressure.

"Kiss … me?" It was a selfish request, and if he had been thinking properly, if his mind hadn't been foggy with pain and blood loss and the anesthetic numbing his body, he never would have asked her. He looked away, hoping that he had not hurt their friendship in its last moments.

An instant later, he felt warm lips against his. He breathed in deeply, taking in her sweet scent, undefiled by the blood and sweat and filth all around her. A rush of euphoria filled his body, along with deep regret that he had never been able to kiss her when his senses were unencumbered by lots of blood.

"I love you, Billy Coen," Rebecca whispered in his ear, so quietly that he thought perhaps he was not meant to hear it. He pretended not to, just in case, and settled back against the wall with a sigh. He felt her light the fuse, felt her reverberating footsteps through the floor as she fled, rushing onward toward freedom. He felt the heat of the flame near his skin, as it burned downwards towards final peace. He closed his eyes.

If dying was like attempting to sit still while your car jerks over a bumpy back road, then death itself was like coming to a halt and stepping out to feel the warm sun on your face. No matter how long the ride was, or how painful, it was over, and you could rest now.

There, alone in the dark warehouse next to the body of the Queen Leech, Billy thought of Rebecca and smiled.

_One year later:_

The small city of Chester Falls was experiencing a surprise rainfall for this late in summer. The weather had been clear the night before, but by morning time, water was falling the gentle sheets from the sky. By afternoon, the street gutters were overflowing and people were talking about flood warnings.

A young woman, barely out of her teenage years, walked down the deserted street, absently twirling her umbrella. She was on her way home from work, and considered it a miracle that she hadn't been fired. The bank took service seriously, and she had been barely able to concentrate all day.

Perhaps, she thought, it has something to do with the fact that today was the anniversary of the day she met ex-marine Lieutenant Billy Coen, the day she had kissed him for the first time … and also the anniversary of his untimely death. She bit her lip, staring at the drenched sidewalk.

_Did I do the right thing, Billy? Should I have tried harder to save you? I thought it was what you wanted, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe …_

She sighed deeply. It had taken her the better part of a year to accept that Billy was gone, and she still had not completely forgiven herself for her part in it. It was grimly apparent upon retrospect that if she hadn't arrested him at their first meeting, if she hadn't forced him to follow her into danger, he might have survived. Of course, without Billy's help, she would have lost her own life to the horrors that had waited within Dr. Marcus' mansion.

_It's pointless to go over it again, Rebecca, _she reminded herself. _What's done is done. You can no more bring Billy back to life than you could rejoin S.T.A.R.S. That chapter in your life is over and done with. It's time to move on. _

But God, she missed him. Even the dog tags that she wore around her neck as a constant reminder of him were not enough to stay her loneliness. She missed his annoying, flirtatious remarks, his arrogant attitude, the security that he seemed to naturally carry with him. If anything, she loved him even more in death than she had in life. He spent his final moments alone so that she could live. At least she had been able to make sure that he would never be resurrected against his will.

_I'm so sorry, Billy. I should have stayed by your side. I shouldn't have left you alone._

A tiny whimper at her feet made her look down. There, in the entrance to a small alley, was an overturned cardboard box, and a little black nose was peeping out from underneath it. Curious, she lifted up the box, and gasped in surprise.

A tiny puppy was sitting there, curled up miserably against the rain, his little tail pressed tightly against his side. He had shaggy, brown-black fur - slicked down with water, he looked like a wet rat - and wide, liquid eyes that seemed to plead with her. There was no collar around his neck.

"Oh, you poor thing!" Rebecca exclaimed, picking up the sad little bundle and hugging him close to her chest. He whined and licked her cheek.

"Don't you have any owners?" she asked as she carried him up the stairs to her apartment. She set him down on the front step while she took her key out of her pocket and unlocked the door. He trotted inside, bushy tail held high like a proud flag, and sat down in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the fridge.

"My, you're a demanding little fellow, aren't you?" she asked as she brought out some cold meat and put it in a bowl for him. He wolfed it down, licked his lips, and headed for the couch, where he promptly curled up and rested his head on his paws.

"Not before I dry you off!" Rebecca cried, hurrying for a towel. By the time she returned, however, most of the water in his fur had gone into the upholstery. She finished drying him off anyway, and set him down on her lap, scratching behind his ears as she thought about what to do. Her apartment allowed pets as part of a special clause, and on her current salary, she could probably afford the extra fifty dollars a month. It had been so long since she had anyone around, even a little mutt puppy, to keep her company.

"Well," she sighed, looking at him. "You've eaten my food and gotten water all over my nice couch, so I guess you're mine. I'll go down to the pet store in a while and buy you some food and a collar with your name on it. Speaking of names, I guess you need one, don't you?"

She looked at the puppy, and he looked back. And all at once, something occurred to her that made her smile.

"What about Billy?" she asked. "That's a good name."

The puppy pricked his ears up and wagged his tail, sprinkling her with drops of water that had concealed themselves in his thick, dark fur.

"Billy it is," she said. "Come on, Billy, let's go down to the store."

Billy followed closely at her heels as she stepped out the door and trotted down the steps, feeling happier than she had in a long time. Overhead, the rain had slowed to a sprinkle, and the sun had burst through the clouds. Over a far-off hill, faintly visible through the misty haze in the air, was a beautiful rainbow.


	19. Ending 4: The Lost Soul

Ending 4:

The Lost Soul

**Hey, guys, sorry about how long this took to get out. I had a little bit of trouble with this chapter. I hope it turned out all right. I should warn you in advance, it's depressing (character death and all that), so don't read it if that bothers you. Also, about the religious references at the end ... I'm not a Christian myself, but it just seemed to fit with the story. Anyway, please enjoy, and I'd love to know what you think! **

As soon as the .45 bullet slammed home, the Queen Leech's monstrous body began to swell. The skin stretched, bulging like a balloon about to pop. Rebecca stared dumbly at it, her exhausted mind unable to comprehend what was happening.

"Get back!" Billy shouted, his fingers digging harshly into her upper arm as he dragged her away from the distended Queen. "Like the leech men … it's gonna blow!"

The blast came moments later, thousands of dying leeches exploding outwards from the core. They stuck to Rebecca's hair and skin, their sharp teeth tearing mindlessly as they shriveled and died. She stumbled onwards, ignoring the sharp pain of many small gashes. She couldn't tell if Billy was still nearby.

Somehow, she found the door that led out and collapsed face forward on the cool grass. A heavy thud close to her indicated that Billy had made it out as well, but she didn't even have the energy to turn her head and look at him. She felt something warm and wet trickle down her cheek, and heard soft _plops _as the leeches that had been fastened all over her body fell off.

She whimpered, struggling against the mist that obscured her vision. What was wrong with her? There must be some sort of poison in the leech saliva that slowed their victems' reactions, made them easier to devour.

_Wake up, girl! You need to see if Billy is all right._

She opened her eyes as wide as they would go. Her arms shook as she pushed her body upwards, and rolled into a sitting position. Billy was stretched out beside her, breathing heavily with his eyes closed. A moment's glance to her knowledgeable eye revealed the problem: the wounds in his side from the monkey's teeth had been reopened during the fight. He had already succumbed to unconsciousness, and she needed to act soon if she wanted to save his life.

She bent over him, supporting her entire weight on one arm as she fished out the first aid spray with her other. As before, she misted the healing liquid carefully over the gash, which had only grown larger. Guilt stabbed through her. _I shouldn't have let him move around so soon! I should have _made _him rest. _

As the huge wound began to scab over and the bleeding slowed to a trickle, it occurred to her for the first time to check her own injuries. They were bad - small cuts all over her body with the worst one being on her neck - and she knew that she would need a first aid spray of her own to stop the flow of blood before it was too late. She reached into her med kit …

And stopped, stomach sinking in dismay, when she realized that she didn't have one. She had used the only other one she'd found to heal Billy after she'd dragged him out of the water. She could feel herself losing consciousness fast.

_It's all right, _she thought. _It'll be all right. I'll just … use a lot of bandages, or something. I've got enough left to cover most of the cuts. _

She stopped again, whispering aloud, "No, I can't. I have to call Enrico first, tell him to report Billy as dead. I have to keep my promise."

She fumbled at her belt for the radio that the Bravo Team captain had given her at their last meeting. She pressed the button, desperately hoping that he would answer.

"Enrico? Can you hear me? Come in, over."

For the longest time, nothing but static answered her. Then, faintly, a male voice, broken up by bad reception.

"Rebecca? Is that you, over?"

Her sigh of relief gusted into the radio, causing a static flare-up. "It's me. Listen, Enrico …" For the first time, she allowed the idea of what she was about to say to creep into her mind. It didn't seem such a bad thing after all. She felt so tired …

"I might not make it," she said. "I got into trouble. But-"

He interrupted her, his voice full of concern. "Don't talk like that, kiddo. What's your position? I'll be right there, over."

"No, don't!" she cried. _If Enrico came to get her, he might find Billy, and she couldn't let that happen. _"It's too dangerous. My position is hard to get to, over."

"Bullshit!" Enrico shouted into the radio. She had never heard him sound so upset. "This is _not _happening. I will _not _lose you, Rebecca. Over."

She shook her head. "It's too late. I know … I'm a medic. Please, Enrico. I need you to … to do something for me. I need you to fill out a report … Billy Coen is dead. I found his body a … a little while ago." She didn't even care anymore if the professional tone that she had struggled so hard to maintain was fading. All that mattered was that Billy go free.

"I don't think that's really important right now, Rebecca," Enrico said. "We-"

"It _is _important!" she said forcefully. "Do it for me. Please."

"Okay," he said quickly, trying to pacify her. "Okay, I will. Just hang in there, Rebecca …"

"Thanks, sir. I'm … really sorry." The radio slipped from the bloody fingers and fell to the ground. She hoped that Enrico had heard her last words, her last apology. She was sorry for so many things, all of them unavoidable: sorry that she hadn't survived better, sorry that she had lied to her captain about Billy. She felt as if she had generally failed.

_At least I kept my promise. Billy will be free now. I made sure of that. _

She looked down at the man lying next to her. His face held an expression of peace, untroubled by the terrible things he had seen. For a moment, Rebecca was afraid that he had died. But no - his chest was still rising and falling rhythmically.

Darkness clouded the edges of her vision, and she felt a wave of irresistible weariness overtake her. She collapsed onto Billy's chest and closed her eyes. His heartbeat thundering in her ears was the last sensation that she experienced before she lapsed into the deepest sleep of all.

Pain filled Billy's senses, an excruciating ache that seemed to reach the core of his very bones. It seemed to be originating from his right side. _Where the monkey bit me … but Rebecca treated that wound. Was that just a dream? _

Small details of the world around him filtered into his consciousness. Somewhere nearby was the faint buzz of static from a radio. He could also hear wind rustling through … tree branches? He was outside?

He stirred, and immediately realized that there was something lying against him, covering one of his arms and shoulder. It was about the weight of a person, but there was no warmth, or the sound of breathing. Billy reached over with his free hand and felt a slender neck, wearing a distinctive choker.

_No … _

He came fully awake in an instant, sitting up and staring down in horror at the still form beside him. He rolled her onto her back, checked and re-checked her pulse, calling her name in a low voice. He even set his lips against hers and blew air into her lungs - he might not have known much about field medicine, but CPR was familiar to him.

Nothing worked, and at last he had to give up. He held her cold body close to his chest, as if the warmth there might somehow revive her. He went over everything that had happened, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. He remembered shooting the Marcus-Leech, remembered dragging Rebecca away from the swelling form, remembered a tearing pain in his side, and then … nothing.

He could tell by the chemical smell that lingered on his skin that the wound had been treated with a first aid spray. But if Rebecca had been able to attend to him, then why was she now dead?

Then it hit him: she used the last of their medical supplies on him, and ignored her own injuries. Grief overtook him, doubly renewed. _It's my fault. If I hadn't fainted like a fucking degenerate son of a bitch, I could have stopped her, made her take care of herself. _

He picked up her cold, stiff hand and pressed it against his face, not even noticing that tears had forced their way out of his dark eyes and were trickling down his cheeks. He hadn't cried since he was a little boy, eight years old, and his dog had been hit by a car. Then, he had run into his room and slammed the door, throwing himself on his bed and sobbing as if the world was coming to and end. Now his anguish was silent, but a thousand times stronger.

Gradually, he became self-aware again. It would be getting light soon, and Rebecca's team would come looking for her. When they did, he didn't want to be around.

But what would he do? After everything that had happened, would he really be okay with going back to life on the run? Of course not, but what else could he do? The man who had caused Rebecca's death was already nothing more than a puddle of slime himself. Billy had been cheated out of his power of revenge.

Or perhaps not. After all, the reason that Marcus had gone on a rampage in the first place was to get even with Umbrella for assassinating him. Yes. When he looked past all the obvious things, Umbrella was responsible for everything that had happened.

"I'll slaughter every one of those bastards myself, sweetheart," he whispered to the small body in his arms. "For you. I'll burn their wretched corporation to the ground!"

He checked Rebecca's pistol. It was a little small for his taste, but it was still loaded with ten rounds. It had suddenly become important to him to survive long enough to guarantee Umbrella's downfall, and this would help. He also took the remainder of the supplies in her med kit, although he didn't know what to do with half of them.

Lastly, he undid her choker. It fit around his upper arm like a strange bracelet. He felt a little guilty about taking it, but his need to have something of hers, something that carried her smell and reminded him of her, overpowered any bad feelings he had.

Her body was light in his arms when he picked it up. He didn't have the tools to bury her, but at least he could make sure that she wouldn't be desecrated by any wild animals or be reanimated as a walking corpse. He cleared an area of grass and built of a pile of dry branches. Laying her carefully down on top of it, he soaked the whole thing with some gasoline that he found in a canister nearby and set it alight. He forced himself to watch the flames until they grew high enough to conceal her from his view. Then, content that his work here was done, he turned and strode into the trees.

_One year later: _

Heavy grey clouds hovered over the land, spitting rain in an angry, spiteful manner. The brick streets of the quaint, backwater European town were deserted except for two men, one old and one young, walking towards each other on opposite sides of the road.

As they grew nearer to each other, the young man suddenly stopped and hurried across the wet bricks, his dark eyes flicking habitually back and forth to check for traffic, although there was none. He stopped in front of the old man.

"Excuse me," he said. "I've heard that the Umbrella Corporation has their headquarters near here. Can you give me directions?"

The old man looked at him in surprise. He made for a forbidding figure at first sight: tall and tanned, with brown hair slicked back from his stern face. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, but no coat, and there was a thin strip of treated leather buckled around his upper right arm. Behind the politeness in his gaze was sadness, and a deep, deep pain.

The old man gave him directions to the lonely facility, which was several miles away from the town.

"Thanks," he said, and starting to walk away, but the old man laid a hand on his arm to stop him.

"You don't look like you're going there to buy their products," he said, his eyes searching. "You bear the mark of one of God's soldiers, come to do your grim duty."

The young man stared at him a moment. Then he said, abruptly, "You believe in God?"

"He is the Creator," the old man said simply.

The young man nodded. "I see. Well, if there is a Hell, that's where I'm bound. For all I know, I've been living there for the past year, with only a promise I made to a friend to keep me from putting a bullet in my brain. I don't know what to believe anymore, but just in case God is real, I'd like to leave a message with you, for a certain girl up in heaven."

"What does she look like?" the old man wanted to know.

The young man closed his eyes. "Absolutely gorgeous," he said, his voice soft. "Short brown hair, big green eyes, soft lips. She's a short little thing, but very tough. Her name is Rebecca Chambers."

"I'll remember that," the old man said. "What would you like me to tell her?"

"Tell her …" The young man paused, thinking. "Tell her that Billy Coen sends his love."

Then, before the old man could say another word, he turned as strode down the street, disappearing quickly into the pouring rain.


	20. Ending 5: Between a Rock and a Zombie

Ending 5:

Between a Rock and a Zombie

**Okay ... this is not actually the last ending. There will be one more chapter coming out after this one. This is an ending that I did on request for ShyButterflyKiss ... I hope you like it! I know it ended a little abruptly, but I was running out of ideas and wanted to post it, since it is getting late. So, again, don't stop reading yet, 'cause there is one more to come! Please enjoy, and I'd love to know what you all think.**

To Rebecca's horror, even the .45 caliber bullet was not enough to kill the Queen Leech. She fell back from the impact, her razor tentacles waving in the air, but she still clung tenaciously to life. If the young medic had not been desperately trying to figure out how to get rid of the thing once and for all, she might actually have been impressed.

"Rebecca!" Billy shout rang across the cacophony of the giant leech's cries. His eyes gleamed with determination; clearly, he had a plan. "Toss me my lighter!"

_That's right, _she thought. _I took his lighter away, back when he was still in handcuffs. It's in my pocket! _She snatched it out and threw it to him. He caught it and flipped it open, holding the small flame out threateningly as he backed slowly away from the Queen Leech.

_What is he going to do with that? _she wondered. _The lighter might be enough to take down a _small _leech, but it's not going to do anything to this monstrosity. _

Billy grinned, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the dynamite that he'd stored there. He waved it in front of the Queen's eyes.

"Know what this is, Your Royal Sliminess? Yeah, I bet you do. You're not so dumb … make one wrong move and I'll blow you to kingdom come."

Rebecca was stunned by his audacity. _Is … is he actually trying to _reason _with the thing? Billy, that won't work! _

Apparently, Marcus had never been much of a negotiator. The Queen Leech let out a piercing shriek and raised one tentacle high in the air, preparing to bring it down on his head.

"Wrong answer," Billy smirked, and lit the dynamite.

The next few minutes were a blur in Rebecca's mind. After he threw the sizzling dynamite into the mound of flesh that was the Queen Leech, Billy grabbed her hand and together, they dashed towards the exit. It was locked, but not solidly, and several sturdy kicks from Billy caused the door to fly open. They broke through just in time, throwing themselves flat as the heat and noise from the explosion overwhelmed them.

Rebecca pushed herself to her feet, brushing dirt and grass off of her clothes, and looked at Billy, who stared back at her in silence. Then, simultaneously, they broke into huge grins.

"We did it!" she exclaimed, gazing in disbelief at the smoking ruins of the Queen Leech's body in the building behind them. A moment later, she squeaked in surprise as strong arms enfolded her in a hug, lifting her up and twirling her around. She looked down into Billy's laughing face and suddenly wondered what would happen if she were just to lean down a little ways …

She stopped herself there, both embarrassed and a little horrified about where her uncalled-for thoughts were leading her. _Come on, Rebecca, this is _Billy _you're talking about. Mr. Slick, Arrogant, Flirts-at-really-weird-times Coen. You haven't even known the man for an entire day yet. Don't get any ideas._

Billy set her down and stretched, rubbing the muscles in his lower back. "Phwew … that was interesting. I've never blown up a mad scientist turned giant leech with dynamite before." He gave her a sideways glance. "Especially with the world's cutest medic by my side. You do realize that no one is going to believe us, don't you?"

_There, _Rebecca thought. _He just illustrated everything I was talking about in once sentence. Well, two. But still … _

She realized that she was staring at him with a dazed look in her wide green eyes. She looked quickly down at the ground, hearing the clink of Billy's dog tags that accompanied the sudden movement.

"We should … I mean … I need to get going," she stammered. "To find my team."

Billy rested the barrel of the shotgun against his shoulder in a classic pose. "Actually, sweetheart, I was thinking of maybe hitching a ride with you."

Rebecca stared at him. "Is that your attempt at a pick-up line? It's not very good."

Billy thought for a moment. "Okay … hey, baby, you wanna go back to my place and shoot some zombies? Or how about: you look good in that dress. You'd look better with a .50 cal in your hands."

Rebecca slapped him on the arm, giggling helplessly. "Shut _up. _You're just being ridiculous now."

"I was serious, though. About going with you."

"Why?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

He shrugged, not looking her in the eye. "I thought I could be of help. Pop a few bad guys, earn some good points with the law. You know."

She crossed her arms. "You're a poor liar, Billy Coen."

"God only knows what's waiting out there." He gestured broadly towards the surrounding forest. "I don't want you to get hurt. After everything we've been through together, is it that much of a surprise that I've come to care what happens to you?"

Rebecca was touched in spite of herself. "I care about you too, Billy. That's why I don't want you to come with me. I'm going to be looking for my team … or, what's left of them, at least." Her voice dropped as she remembered Enrico's words.

"_You and I are the only ones left, kiddo."_

Billy put his hand on her shoulder. "Give me a chance, Rebecca. I can handle myself. I'm just worried about an inexperienced little girl like yourself-" He stopped himself. After everything she had seen and done in the past fifteen hours, she couldn't be considered a rookie. Not anymore.

"Just let me go with you until we find your team," he said, letting a pleading note enter his voice. "I promise I'll split after that and make fast tracks in the other direction."

Rebecca couldn't say no to him. Reluctantly, she nodded. "Okay. But only until then."

The woods were still dark, but the pale light of dawn was beginning to stain the horizon when they departed, heading west. They had picked that direction because the train had been heading east; thus, eventually, they would end up near the crash site of Bravo Team's helicopter.

Rebecca didn't say it out loud, but she was actually glad for Billy's strong presence at her shoulder as she stalked between the trees with her gun out. He had kept the shotgun, although he didn't have any shells for it, and he was holding it like a club.

The young medic stopped walking when she heard a noise in the bushes ahead of her. It sounded almost like … a growl?

"Did you hear that?" she asked Billy in an undertone.

He nodded, his dark eyes flicking two and fro. But before he could say anything, a dark, four-legged shape emerged from the thick undergrowth. Rebecca's blood froze when she saw that it was not alone. There were at least four other forms behind it.

_Enrico said that he and the others were attacked by a pack of zombie dogs. A pack …_

"Oh, God," she whispered. More and more shapes began to emerge from the near-blackness on both sides of them, and from the back as well. They were surrounded. From Rebecca's estimate, there were at least twenty dogs. She didn't have enough bullets for all of them even if she were to use no more than a single shot for each.

_We're dead … both of us are going to die here, torn apart by rotting teeth. After the monkeys and the giant earwigs and the Queen Leech and everything we've fought and killed, we've finally met our match. _

She blinked in surprise as a gunshot reverberated through the woods. One of the dogs fell, whimpering, and did not get up again. More gunshots followed.

_When did Billy get ammunition? _

But Billy was not firing. He was standing still, looking around with as much confusion on his face as Rebecca felt. Around them, more and more of the dogs collapsed and died. The rest backed away and fled into the forest.

A familiar voice rang out, and a tall figure stepped into sight. "Thought you two might need a little help."

"Enrico!" Rebecca cried. She had never been happier to see her stern, mustachioed team captain. She grinned happily, but her smile dropped when she noticed that Enrico was staring at Billy, and Billy was staring right back.

"So," the Bravo Team captain said at last, shooting Rebecca that gaze that he reserved for new recruits who had messed up. "You seem to know each other pretty well for just having met, let's see … _less that three hours ago. _What is the meaning of this, Rebecca?"

Billy tensed up at the hard tone in the man's voice, but wisely kept silent. Rebecca took a deep breath, preparing herself for the scolding of a lifetime. She didn't think Enrico would actually punish her, but …

"I met Billy on the train," she explained. Enrico's eyes narrowed, but he didn't interrupt her. "He saved my life from some zombies that were attacking me. I arrested him at the time, but later … well, after we had fought our way through the mansion, we were separated. I was looking for Billy when we ran into each other, sir. Forgive me for not telling you the truth at the time, but I did what I thought was best. You see, Billy didn't really kill those people. He's innocent. He told me the whole story."

Enrico's hard stare had not let up, and Rebecca suddenly realized that while she saw herself as making a capable and just decision based on what she thought was right, to other people she might appear weak, gullible, easily manipulated.

_What if Enrico thinks I went easy on Billy because I fell in love with him or something? _

And then, _did I?_

She pushed the thought away. "Please, sir, you've got to believe me. Billy has saved my life more times that I can count. Why would he do that if he was really as bad as the report claimed?"

She fell silent as Billy put a hand on her shoulder. "Thanks for sticking up for me, Rebecca, but maybe I should be hitting the road. You'll be safe with your captain, but I don't think I'm welcome here." He gave her a rueful glance and turned to walk away.

"Stop!" Enrico exclaimed. Billy looked back warily, anticipating the sharp pain of a bullet, but to his surprise, the tall, thick man was looking at him with an expression of guarded curiosity.

"Rebecca seems to have taken to you," he murmured. "And as hard as it might be to believe, she's not anywhere near a fool. If she trusts you, there must be a good reason for it."

Billy stayed silent, uncertain as to what the man was saying. Rebecca looked between the two of them hopefully.

"These are difficult times," Enrico continued, his voice soft, as if he were speaking to himself. "Who can we depend on if not our fellow humans? If Rebecca is sure about you, which she seems to be, then I'm willing to give you a chance, Coen. We'll do better if we stick together. What do you say?"

A small grin crossed Billy's face as he snapped a salute. "I'm just a soldier, sir. I might not be so good at following orders, but I'm damn handy in a fight, as Rebecca here can attest to. If you have a spare gun and need a hand to hold it, I'm your man."

"You're hired," Enrico said. "On a trial run, you understand. At this point, I don't much care what you've done, just what you're going to do. I won't pass judgment until I've seen you in action."

"I appreciate it," Billy said.

"So, what's the plan?" Rebecca chirped, looking from one man to the other.

Enrico considered. "Well, I found a place that might be worth checking out. Big house on a lonely hill just south of here - probably a mansion of some sort. I was just about to check it out when I heard an explosion and thought I should come back to check on you. Anyway, I figured we could give it a try. We might be able to radio for help inside."

"Does it look dangerous?" Billy wanted to know. His gaze flickered to Rebecca. _The poor girl had had enough trouble in the recent past to last her entire lifetime. _

Enrico shrugged. "How bad could it get?"

As they would soon find out, he was very much mistaken.


	21. End 6 Part 1: The Dream is Still Alive

Ending 6, Part 1:

The Dream is Still Alive

**Heh ... I seem to keep thinking of reasons to continue writing this story. I meant this to be one chapter, but it's late, and I wanted to post it today, so come back tomorrow for the conclusion! Since most of the story is from Billy's perspective, and he doesn't know the S.T.A.R.S. people (besides Rebecca, obviously), things might be a little unclear, so I'll explain a few points. The "leader" that Billy mentions is actually Chris, not Wesker, and Billy assumed he was the leader because he seemed to be in charge. Wesker does not appear, having already left at this point in the story. Also, in this ending, Rebecca does not go to the mansion with the other S.T.A.R.S., having been too "traumatized" by Billy. She and Brad drive the escort truck that takes Billy back to jail. As for why the cop decided to attack Billy, that will be explained next time. Please enjoy, and I'd love to know what you think!**

**By the way, if anyone is interested, the song that this ending was based off of is "Alive" by the Japanese band SOUL'd OUT. It's a fantastic song, you guys should go check it out. Anyway ... thanks for reading! Here goes:  
**

"Someone is here to see you, Mr. Coen."

Billy ignored the guard and stared out the window of his cell. It had been one week already since he had lost everything that he had worked so hard to achieve, but it felt like many years. Incredible.

_No, _he reminded himself, _not lost. I gave it away. Gave away my future, and just as likely as not, my life along with it. Why? Well, I couldn't very well do anything else. Not after what she tried to do for me. _

His mind traveled back in time, to the night-soaked woods where everything had started.

"_Billy," she panted, stumbling and falling to her knees on the soft grass. "Please … I can't go any further right now. I need to take a breather."_

_Reluctantly, he stopped. They had been sprinting full on through the dark forest for ten minutes straight now, trying to outrun something they could never escape. Marcus - the Queen Leech - was dead, but the evil that he had brought with him could never fully be cleansed from the earth. The T-virus spread like wildfire through the surrounding area, infecting everything it touched. If it wasn't halted soon, first the state and then the country and then the whole world would be at risk. There was no time for resting. _

_He looked down at the girl - the young woman, really - kneeling beside him, and a gentler expression overtook the hardness in his eyes. She looked completely worn out. A small break couldn't hurt, he decided. _

"_Thank you," Rebecca said quietly. "I'll be fine in a minute."_

_Billy nodded and sat down on a nearby log, his mind spinning. After what they knew, what _he _knew, it was his responsibility to do something about it. He may not be a Marine anymore, but damn it, he could still save lives. He had saved _hers, _many times already that night, and each time had been like a small dose of medicine, bringing back his sanity, reminding him who he really was. _

But all that was gone now, swept away by the cruel hand of fate, and he was right back where he started. He was aware of the guard still standing there, shifting back and forth uncomfortably. Billy turned to look at him with eyes that were dead of any expression, and the young man flinched.

_That's right … someone's here to see me. Now who could that be? _

"Who is it?" he asked.

"Your wife, sir," the guard replied. Billy wasn't sure why he was addressed with such respect; perhaps his years of service had made him more commanding than he had thought.

_Wait … my wife? _

"_Billy, wake up! Someone's coming!" _

_A small hand gripping his shoulder roused him from his deep slumber. When had he fallen asleep? They were only supposed to stop for a minute … just a minute. _

"_Who is it?" he asked. "The bad guys or the good guys?" The distinction between the two had been blurred in his mind, so that they blended inseparably together. Which was he? And the people who might be good to Rebecca were definitely _not _good to him. At least the bad guys were quite obvious, since their flesh was dependably rotting off. Billy understood the situation: always shoot the dead guy. _

_Rebecca's eyes were wide with recognition, and perhaps a little bit of fear - but not for herself. For him … she was worried about him. "It's Alpha Team," she whispered. "Billy, run for it. If they catch you …"_

_But it was too late. The flashlight beams of the good bad guys had located their position. Billy heard a man's voice, strong and commanding:_

"_We know you're there. Step out of the bushes with your hands up."_

_Instinctively, Billy knew that it would be very bad for Rebecca to be caught with him. These were hardened soldiers - they would not see the friendship that had grown between the convict and the medic, entangling them both like a thorny vine. All they would see was that Rebecca had failed in her duty. She would be stripped of her job, perhaps even court-martialed, and he had been. _

_He did the only thing he could do, to save her. He clamped his hand over her mouth to prevent her from crying out. Then, with his free hand, he wrenched her pistol out of its holster and pressed it against the side of her head. Looking down, he saw her eyes widen in surprise and fear, and he had never felt worse. _

"_It's okay, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear, barely audible. "Just play along."_

_She relaxed, confusion overriding her terror. She trusted him. _

"_I have a hostage," he called to the S.T.A.R.S. people. "Put down your guns, or I'll shoot her."_

_Rebecca tensed under his arm, but he did not let her go. _

"_How do we know you're telling the truth?" the man called. He seemed to be the leader of the group. _

_Billy walked forward out of the bush, shoving Rebecca in front of him. At the sight of her, he could see horror plain in the eyes of the five people standing there. There was fury there, as well. _

_The leader, a tall man with close-cropped, spiky brown hair, frowned at him. "Billy Coen, I presume?"_

_Billy nodded. "You guess right. You must be S.T.A.R.S. As you can see, I've got your little girl here. Found her wandering around in the woods, completely lost. You obviously don't train your rookies very well." Forgive me, Rebecca, for my lies. _

_The leader removed his finger from the trigger of his gun and held his hands up to show that he wasn't going to fire. "Easy, pal. We can work this out. Just don't hurt her."_

_Of course, Billy had no intentions of hurting Rebecca, but it wouldn't be good for either of them for that to be known. He nodded again, curtly. _

"_All right," the leader said. "Drop the gun and let her go, and I give you my word that we won't shoot you. We'll just take you back to the station and let the police chief know that you didn't resist arrest."_

_As if it would really matter what they told him … it wouldn't make Billy's life any easier. Well, he'd gone this far; he might as well take it to the finish. _

"_And what if I feel like taking her with me?"_

_The leader looked at the busty, brown-haired woman standing next to him, and then back at Billy. _

"_Sorry, we can't let you do that," he said firmly. I'd rather this ended without a fight, but if we have to take you down, we will."_

_Billy made a show of considering before he tossed the gun aside and released Rebecca, giving her a small, subtle nudge in the back to send her towards her teammates. As she walked slowly away from him, one of the other S.T.A.R.S. guys came forward and wrenched his hands behind his back, slapping handcuffs on him. _

_Déjà vu, Billy thought, only when Rebecca arrested me, there was nothing rough about it … like having your finger chewed on by a little kitten. You can't take it seriously, but you play along just because it's so cute. _

_The man who had cuffed him dragged him away to an armored truck nearby and put him in the back. He looked back once, made eye contact with Rebecca, who was watching him get taken away with a forlorn look in her eyes. He winked at her, but the moment was broken when his guard grabbed his arm and tugged, nearly pulling him off his feet. _

And that was the last he had seen of Rebecca. The rest of her team had made a point of keeping her away from him, perhaps to "protect" her from any further trauma that would exist as a result of contact with him. He had been taken away and stuck in a cold jail cell, where he had been for the last week, alone with his thoughts.

Except, apparently, he was now to receive a visitor, an unknown woman who claimed to be his wife. Curiosity overcame his suspicion, and he turned to look at the guard again.

"Let her in."

The young man turned away and spoke to someone outside of Billy's line of vision. He craned his neck, trying to see who it might be. All he could make out was a small form and blonde hair.

Then he heard light footsteps, and a soft voice …

"Hi, Billy."

Rebecca had not been expecting the security guard at the prison to let her in. Even with her disguise on, she was paranoid that someone would recognize her as the "missing member of S.T.A.R.S."

Then again, the man on duty looked very young, barely older than her, and was obviously unsure of himself. His nervousness doubled when Rebecca mentioned who she wanted to see. Apparently, Billy was their highest-profile criminal at the moment.

"Wh-what's your name, miss?" the guard asked.

"Elly," she said shyly. "Elly Coen. I … Billy's my husband." Her cheeks reddened slightly at her lie, but the guard seemed to take it as a blush of admission.

"I didn't realize he was married," he said. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I guess you'll want to be seeing him, then."

She nodded, rejoicing inwardly as the guard led her through the narrow corridors to one of the cells in the solitary confinement block. He unlocked the door and opened it a crack, calling inside.

"Someone is here to see you, Mr. Coen."

There was a long moment of silence - so long that Rebecca began to think that Billy might not respond at all. Then she heard his voice, familiar and comforting and very tired sounding.

"Who is it?"

"Your wife, sir," the guard replied.

Another long pause. Rebecca crossed her fingers, hoping that Billy would pick up on her plan. _Please … whatever you do, don't say 'I don't have a wife'. _

"Let her in."

The guard turned around and beamed at her, looking very proud of himself for not having done much. "In you go, Ma'am. I'll be waiting outside if you need anything."

She stepped through the door. There he was, sitting hunched over on a little cot staring at the ground. He was pale and unshaven and looked as if he had not had a proper meal since she last saw him.

"Hi, Billy," she said softly. He glanced up, and the blank looked in his eyes changed to one of amazement. He jumped up, crossing the room in three strides, and swept her into his arms. Rebecca hugged him fiercely back, scanning the room for security cameras. There was only one, located in plain sight in the left-hand corner. Rebecca swung Billy around so that his back was blocking the camera's view and whispered, "Just play along."

Billy grinned, recognizing the same words he had spoken to her a week ago. "When did we get married?" he whispered back.

Rebecca blushed and didn't answer. Instead, she looked at the watch on her wrist and began her mental countdown.

_One minute now. _

"How are you? They haven't been mistreating you, have they?" she tried to keep up the sort of conversation she thought a worried wife would start in such circumstances.

"I'm fine, sweetheart. How about you?"

_Thirty seconds. _

"I've been all right," she said. "I missed you, though." It was actually the truth.

"I missed you too," Billy smirked, obviously enjoying his role as "husband". "It's been lonely here. Especially at night."

If she was any redder, she might have been mistaken for a tomato. More than ever, she was glad Billy's strong back was obscured her face from the camera. _Ten second now. Nine … eight … seven … six … five … four … three … two … one … here we go!_

There was and explosion and shouting from outside, and pounding footsteps as the guard in the call took off. Rebecca reached into her purse and pulled out two breathing apparatuses. One she handed to Billy, and the other she put on herself. Then, taking his hand, she led him out of the cell.

"Come on," she said. "We'll have to be quick."

The result from her distraction was better than she had anticipated. Billy stared in open shock as they passed through the front lobby, which was littered in motionless bodies.

"Wh-what the hell?" he exclaimed. "Are they _dead_?"

"Of course not!" she replied, affronted that he'd even consider her doing such a thing. "They're just asleep. There's an invisible sleeping agent in the air that was spread by the time bomb I left in a bush outside the station. The effects will wear off in an hour or so … plenty of time for us to get away. I made it myself," she added proudly.

They left the police station and headed north, towards an old bridge that ran over the river. Billy reveled in the feeling of the cool breeze on his face and Rebecca's small warm hand in his own. Freedom was a sweet taste in his mouth, an unexpected second serving of the best food in the world.

They were halfway over the bridge when he heard the sound he had been secretly dreading: the slow wail of a siren. A patrol car with flashing lights pulled in the street at the end of the bridge, cutting off their escape. They turned to go back the way they'd come, but that was blocked off as well.

Billy gripped Rebecca's hand tightly. He could feel blood pulsing through her fingers as her heart sped. These were not enemies that they could face down and shoot together. They could only run.

An officer stepped out of one of the cars, his gun drawn. Billy raised his hands in the air, dragging Rebecca's arm up with him. "Don't shoot!" he called. "I'll-"

The man raised his gun and fired one shot. Billy staggered back into the railing of the bridge. Rebecca's scream echoed in his ears, and he looked down to see blood flowering from a hole in his shirt, right below his heart. He put his hand over the spot, feeling the wet warmth soaking between his fingers, and stared at the cop with wide, astonished eyes.

The man aimed again, but he never got a chance to fire. Rebecca stepped up onto the railing of the bridge and jumped over. She was still gripping Billy's hand tightly, and - as all the strength had left his body with the pain and shock of his wound - he was unable to support her weight and went over the edge as well. They plummeted down, down, down into the frigid water below.

The cop who had fired his weapon ran to the edge of the bridge and looked over, but all that he could see was a fading trail of blood rising in the water.


	22. End 6 Part 2: The Dream is Still Alive

Ending 6, Part 2:

The Dream is Still Alive

**I'm terribly sorry, everyone, about the delay on this chapter. I managed to catch the flu, and haven't been able to do much. This is the last chapter. Thanks so much for reading all the way to the end! I'm really going to miss writing this story, and reading all of your wonderful reviews. So please, comment one last time, and let me know what you think! I'd also love to know which ending was everyone's favorite. Thank you all so much! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

_The cop who had fired his weapon ran to the edge of the bridge and looked over, but all that he could see was a fading trail of blood rising in the water. _

_Five years later:_

The cabin was way out in the middle of the woods, five miles from any sort of civilization; a long walk on a hot summer's day for the slightly-out-of-shape man in a dark suit and sunglasses, toting a briefcase that seemed to grow heavier with every step. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face, and he wiped it away with his cuff. He had spent the last six months working on this case, and with any luck, today would be the day it was finally wrapped up.

He could see his destination up ahead, peeking through the trees. It was a cozy little cottage, two stories with a small wooden balcony halfway up. There was a sizable garden on one side, bordered by a mostly-empty woodshed. There was a notched stump next to it for cutting wood on, and embedded in the stump was the blade of a large axe.

There was a little boy, about four or five years old, swinging in a hammock strung between two large cedars. He was dark-haired and had a healthy tan. When he saw the man in the suit coming up the hill, he jumped up and ran inside the cottage.

A young woman, presumably his mother, came out after a few minutes. She was wearing an apron, and her hands were white with flour. She dusted them off and shaded her eyes against the sun.

"Hello," she called when the suited man was a few yards away. "Can I help you?"

"I hope so, Ma'am," he panted. "My name is Joseph Ransom. I'm with the FBI. Would you by any chance be Ms. Rebecca Chambers, formerly of S.T.A.R.S.?"

The young woman nodded, her face reflecting a touch of anxiety. The boy came up to stand beside her, and she reached out and pulled his head against her waist.

"Don't be alarmed, Ma'am," said Ransom, holding out his hands in the traditional 'I mean you no harm' pose. "You're not in any trouble. I just wanted to ask you a few questions about a man I believe you were acquainted with, William Coen."

"Billy," she corrected automatically.

"Billy, of course," he said. "I'm sorry."

Rebecca seemed to collect herself. "Well, Mr. Ransom, would you like to come in for some cold water, or perhaps lemonade? I know it's a long walk, and the weather isn't exactly cool."

The agent wiped his forehead again. "That would be very welcome, Ma'am."

He followed her inside the cabin, which was very clean and tidy, although relatively bare of decoration. There was a little woodstove in the center, a table and a few chairs, a kitchen with a sink and small fridge in the corner, a ladder that led up to the second floor, and a play area with a few books and toys lying scattered around. Ransom sat down on one of the chairs while Rebecca poured out two large glasses of lemonade. One she set down in front of her guest, and the other she handed to her son.

The little boy stared curiously at the agent as he sipped his lemonade, holding the large glass with both hands.

"Are you from the Government?" he asked, his diction surprisingly clear for a child of his age.

Ransom nodded awkwardly. He had never been particularly good around children, but he knew the fundamentals: make eye contact, speak softly, ask simple questions. "Yes, I am. What's your name?"

"Will," the boy replied, taking along gulp of his lemonade.

"How old are you, Will?"

"He's five," Rebecca said quickly. She bent down and kissed her son on top of his head. "Willy, sweetheart, why don't you go and play outside. Mommy needs to talk to our guest."

Will beamed happily, depositing his empty glass in the sink and trotting out the door. Ransom watched him go before turning back to Rebecca.

"Lieutenant Coen is his father, isn't he?" he asked, already knowing the answer. When the woman in front of him nodded, he said, "I thought as much. It wasn't too hard to figure out; the resemblance is striking."

"What did you come here for?" Rebecca asked wearily, sitting down opposite him. She looked much different from the old pictures of her, taken when she was just a rookie member of S.T.A.R.S. She had let her hair grow out, and it now curled softly around her shoulders, certain strands glinting golden in the light.

Ransom sighed. "I'll be honest. I came here looking for answers. You see, we recently dug up new data on Lieutenant Coen's case. Data that, if correct, would clear him of his charges and allow him to return to society. I believe that he was wrongfully accused, and your testimony is the last thing required to prove it. I know that you and he worked together five years ago, to escape from James Marcus' mansion. He must have told you something during that time."

She looked down at her hands, then out the window, remembering. "For what it's worth, Billy didn't commit those murders. He was framed by the other members in his squad."

Ransom felt a deep relief in his mind. At last, the answer he had been looking for. "I'll make sure that everyone important finds out about this," he promised. "Billy Coen's name will be cleared."

"Thank you," Rebecca said quietly. "I appreciate all the work you've done on this case." She stood up and went back to the kitchen counter, where she began stirring the dough she'd been working on before.

"One more thing," Ransom called, trying to keep the hope out of his tone. He had put a lot of energy into solving the case, and one thing had constantly puzzled him.

Rebecca turned to look at him. "What's that?"

He swallowed the nervous lump that had risen in his throat. "The official police report that I studied said that Billy Coen was shot five years ago while trying to escape by an officer who turned out to be working under Umbrella's orders. He was later fired. However, Lieutenant Coen fell into the river, and his body was never recovered. I … I wanted to know … is he still alive? If he is," the agent added quickly, "I won't tell anyone until his name is completely cleared. You have my word."

Rebecca stared at him for a long moment. Then she said, almost inaudibly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Ransom. I did what I could to save him, but the wound was fatal. Billy died later that day."

Ransom hung his head, surprised to feel real grief at the news. Somehow, while he had been working on Billy's case, he had come to care what had happened to the man. It was disappointing to know that he'd never meet him.

"Thanks for your time, Ma'am," he said, standing up. "I'm glad that I got to talk to you. Take care of yourself." He left the cabin, shutting the door carefully behind him. Will, once more swinging happily in his hammock, waved goodbye, and Ransom waved back as he strode off down the hill, feeling satisfied that he had got what he came for.

Later that night, as Rebecca lay in bed with Will curled up at her side, she heard the creak of the door, followed by heavy footsteps crossing the floor. The kitchen tap was turned on, and the water ran for a minute before shutting off again. More footsteps, leading over to the ladder, and then climbing up it. Heavy breathing in the dark. A tall form stripped down and slid under the blankets.

He lay still next to her, apparently assuming she was asleep. Rebecca stirred and rested her head on his shoulder.

"You're still awake, sweetheart?" he whispered. His hands found her face, and then his lips. He kissed her gently for a few minutes and then lay back against the pillow.

"Anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

Rebecca snuggled down under the protecting warmth of Billy's arm and closed her eyes, smiling contentedly.

"No. Nothing at all."


End file.
